


Help Me to Fly

by CharlotteShay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Big Bang Challenge, Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 49,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteShay/pseuds/CharlotteShay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thinks he's doing the kid a favor by helping him, but then he's deep into something that he never even believed in.<br/>But he's got nothing to lose compared to Castiel, who has to lose everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help Me to Fly

Castiel Gassagen dropped Dante’s Inferno into his book bag, letting it nestle beside his history textbook before zipping the bag up. He hated taking his textbook home, and Mr. Miller loved sending them home. At least, Castiel reminded in optimism, this would be the last year he would have to deal with high school teachers and their love for drowning their students in work. He couldn’t even begin to process what it would be like, coming back for yet another year. Surely it was something similar to Purgatory.

“Hey Castiel, what’s with the long face?” a familiar voice sounded from beside him. Blue eyes glanced over to see Jesse Clark, a friend he’d had since freshman year.

There had only been one hamburger left in the lunch line and Jesse had been staring at it quite intently so Castiel had taken the spaghetti instead, even though he hated it. The guy had thanked him with the most laidback grin the pasta-sufferer had seen, and he’d even asked if he could sit and eat lunch with him. After that, it just became a habit and they easily became inseparable. 

That is, until Jesse got a girlfriend. Susan was one of the cheerleaders – not the head cheerleader, but it was still supposedly impressive – and she wanted her boyfriend to spend every waking moment with her.

“The principal came to audit my Ancient Civ. Class again,” he began. Jesse groaned for him, using the lockers for support as he complained.

“Lemme guess. Mr. Miller practically jizzed himself trying to stick so much homework up your ass?” Castiel grimaced slightly; not a single part of that sounded comfortable or safe for the human psyche. No, that would definitely cause some mental scarring.

“Two chapters, plus a three page essay for each, and all the vocabulary explained and exemplified,” he huffed, slamming his locker shut. He shouldered his book bag as a signal he wanted to start walking. His friend used the lockers now as a springboard to right himself before sidling up beside him.

“Sounds like it’s crammed pretty far up there,” he commented, “Want me to help you? I didn’t get much tonight so we could head to my place, watch some Slayers, and eventually get it done.”

“As fun as that sounds, I’ll have to pass.”

“You sure? I’ll do all that vocab work for you. Outline essays? Give you all my food? I think I’ve finally figured out the lock to my dad’s liquor cabinet…”

“I didn’t know you were trying to,” Castiel admitted, pushing open the door. He squinted against the sudden sunlight until his eyes adjusted. Then he looked over to a sheepish Jesse, who switched his bag to his other shoulder – a hardly noticeable nervous habit, he supposed.

“No, but I figured might as well try and see if it would bring you over. We don’t hang out much anymore, you know? I mean, it’s cool if you’ve things to do, man, but…we’re best friends…and Battlefield 2: Modern Combat comes out in a couple of weeks.” He was always bad at keeping to a deep subject, so the new video game release served as a mood lightener, but at the same time enticed Castiel.

“Then when it does, I’ll come over and kick your butt at it,” he predicted, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. Jesse just gave him a laidback grin, stopping at the top of the steps.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, “See you tomorrow.”

“You too.”

“Good luck with your essays,” he called, as he had already turned to head towards his own house. Castiel shook his head, almost wishing he had agreed to go. The reason he didn’t was partially because it was his turn to help make dinner at home, but mainly because he knew Susan would be there. She was nice enough, but the girl was a chatterbox that never ran out of batteries. She would sit through an entire movie and talk about how one time her friend Jessica sat in the wrong theater and watched half of Saw before realizing it wasn’t Batman Begins.

Jesse liked her so he stood as much of her presence as he could, but if given a choice, he would always try and have an excuse to not see her – or to be more precise, not hear her.

At the thought, he seemed to relish the peaceful quiet of walking home. No one really lived in his neighborhood – it was a gated community, mostly populated by the elderly. His foster father definitely fit the description, though he was hardly there long enough to show it.

Castiel and his siblings were all foster children, taken in by the same kind, old man. He had been there all the time at first, though the older kids didn’t seem to warm up to him – namely Uriel and Zachariah. Balthazar, Anna, and himself had instantly fit into the roles of his loving children. How could they not, with a father so kind and forgiving, yet at the same time strict enough that you wanted to make him proud? 

It was odd, but Castiel liked to pretend that he really was their father, not just some man who decided to take in some lost souls – though that was certainly magnificent in and of itself.

But then something had happened at his father’s work, and he suddenly became much busier. It got to the point where they were lucky to even see him on holidays. He would always send letters and sometimes managed to call and check up on his children though, and that showed he still cared.

“Hey, faggot.” Castiel cringed, having foolishly hoped he could have a nice walk home. He didn’t bother turning to the voice, he knew the owner clear as day.

“Brad, not today. Please, just let it go,” he requested, “Do you even remember why you do this anymore?” Another teenager scoffed – one of his groupies, no doubt.

“The fudge-licker can’t ever remember the shit he pulled? You’re gonna get a beating today, Cassie,” that kid remarked. Castiel grimaced, now turning around. Brad had brought three of his friends to tag along today – probably doing his dirty work for the drugs.

Russell Bradwell had started picking on him for some unknown reason towards the end of sophomore year. Perhaps it was because he’d caught him selling his drugs – acid, speed, pot, a little bit of everything, apparently.

He had never intended to tell anyone; he wished his brother would make better decisions, but ever since father stopped visiting them, Balthazar had taken up smoking pot. And of course, Russell – or his nickname “Brad,” as he preferred – was his dealer. The drugs made the older sibling happy. Moreso than that, they kept him home. Castiel was sure his brother wanted to run away, but becoming a druggie was working for him and frankly he just wanted the family to stay together until their father returned for good. Then they could fix everything.

Still, the fact that he had seen a deal in action scared Brad and he had begun to bully and terrorize him into keeping quiet. More often than not, it was only a few punches here, a few kicks there and they all went home. But the sadistic twinkle in his eye seemed to gleam brighter than usual and Castiel had a terrible feeling that this was not one of those times.

“Cassie, baby,” he cooed, “You know I like you; I really do…but it makes me so sad when you can’t remember how we met, and it only makes me want to hurt you more. So yeah, the beating’s going to happen, and you aren’t going to fight back, are you?” He strolled over, hand outstretched. Castiel swallowed harshly before relinquishing his bag. As soon as the other teenager backed out of the way, his “friends” would begin the beating. At least he took care not to damage his bag or the books inside it.

For some reason, optimism didn’t help this time.  
*  
Dean, the hunter by his lonesome, was cruising down a back road, avoiding the traffic that surfaced around the time school let out. The windows were rolled down; it was early October and the weather was surprisingly clear – the sun would even peek out from the clouds every now and again. His dad and fellow hunter, John, was off in Jericho – the old man had demanded that he go this one alone. Subsequently, signs of a Mannegishi had been showing up in this town, so Dean had taken the Impala, hunted it down and killed the water spirit.

He had called John to check with him, but he’d only gotten his voicemail. Normally he would worry and go after him, but the man had been clear that Dean had better not try to team up with him and his son had agreed. It was either stay in town or go find something else to kill.

It was a nice town, and he’d heard great things about their blueberry pies. So he was on his way to the local diner to get him a slice of that action when he passed by some kids huddled around. Even from his car, he could tell they were kicking something, and when they backed off so one of them could get and start punching it, he knew what was about to happen. He pulled to the side of the road and shut off the car, stepping out into view.

“Hey,” he called, striding over to the scene. Some of the kids immediately scurried off, though a couple did stay.

“What do you want?” a voice sneered. Dean looked to him, glaring silently, until the teen took a few steps back.

“You’re lucky I don’t kick your asses,” he finally spoke, “Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind.” He didn’t even have to rough them up a bit before the last of them ran off. He did notice, however, that the one kid who had spoken to him stopped to look back at the victim, likely a promise for another attack.

“You heard me!” Dean shouted, his facial expression even more threatening than before. The kid finally ran out of sight, leaving only Dean and the poor kid who was picking himself up off the ground.

“You okay?”

“…you didn’t need to do that,” he muttered, gingerly rubbing his side. Without asking, the man lifted his shirt to assess the damage.

“Yeah, ‘cause you totally had it,” he grumbled as he carefully prodded at the forming bruises. A blush dusted the teenager’s cheeks, though he was wincing at the slightly painful touches.

“I didn’t, actually,” he commented, obviously not good at getting sarcasm.

“I know that. I was just saying…” Dean looked up, locking eyes with this stranger. He was blushing, his deep blue eyes downcast to a man who had decided to swoop in and play savior only to switch to doctor. And frankly, he doubted the man was either.

“Ah, right. I’m not gonna touch your no-no places or whatever if that’s what you’re bein’ a girl about,” he explained, pulling his hand away, “Besides, it doesn’t feel like you fractured anything. Just some nasty bruises.” Instead of questioning why his mind went automatically to “no-no places,” the teenager turned and walked to his backpack. It had been dropped in the bullies’ fear, but thankfully everything inside it was still intact.

“Well aren’t you friendly,” Dean huffed under his breath. He knew never to expect hearing praise or some sort of appreciation in his line of work, but this had been a regular, commonly known issue. The least he could get was a little thanks.

“Thank you, I guess. They probably would’ve done much worse if you hadn’t come when you did,” he said over his shoulder, careful as he lifted the strap of his bag onto his shoulder. The hunter saw him wince, frowned, and took the backpack from him.

“I’m Dean…might as well introduce myself if I’m giving you a ride home.” He decided this on his own, of course, because of the slight limp the boy was sporting and the fact that carrying his bag would’ve caused him a good deal of pain that normal people would call suffering.

“You don’t have to do that…but I’m Castiel. Castiel Gassagen,” he replied, following the man to his car.

“Castiel? That’s kind of a weird name, isn’t it?”

“Is it? I…I never really thought about it, actually…” Dean was crushed. This poor kid couldn’t take a joke, and all the interactions he knew involved humor.

“I was teasing you, man. Castiel’s a name just like anyone else’s,” he explained, glancing over at him. Castiel mouthed a silent oh, the sadness in his face evaporating into something similar to embarrassment.

“…listen, do you know where I can get me some good pie?” he asked, tossing the book bag into the backseat.

“What?”

“I heard this town’s got a place with good blueberry pie.” He figured this would make good, idle conversation as he drove the boy home. They both climbed into the car, though Castiel was a little more hesitant to get in this stranger’s car. Yet, for some reason, he felt he could trust this man, that he could trust Dean.

“Well everyone says Aunt May’s diner has the best, but I think everyone overlooks this small place around the corner from the Taco Station,” he answered, “Do you know where that is?” The blank look he received told him plenty. Castiel buckled his seat belt.

“I’m going to take that as a no. Drive along this road and take the first right.”

“And it’ll be right there?”

“No, but we’ll keep going from there,” the younger male responded, sitting back and interlacing his fingers so they folded neatly in his lap.

“You’re coming with me now?” It was nice that people wanted to hang around with him, showed he was still good at communicating, but he needed to ditch the kid. He couldn’t try to call John and ask him how things were going, couldn’t pick up a chick and take her back to his motel room, couldn’t even go back to his motel room at all until this Castiel kid was out of his Impala.

“I thought I’d like some pie as well,” he explained, though he doubted it was true. He was supposed to be going home, and starting dinner soon. Not to mention that pie could very well spoil his appetite and Heaven knows how upset Uriel gets if someone didn’t finish their meal.

There was something about this man, though. His charming smile just seemed to beckon Castiel closer. Not only that, but the way he held himself, his firm grip on the steering wheel, his green eyes trained on the road as if watching for someone – actually that part was a little suspicious, his legs casually spread in a show of masculine pride, and of course the way he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. Perhaps he was thinking, perhaps he was bored. But all these mannerisms kept Castiel in the car and definitely made him hungry for some pie.

“Hey, you mind if I…uh, Castiel, you okay?” Dean had glanced over at the teenager, only to find him staring intently.

“Hm?” the younger male seemed to realize what he was doing, “Oh, yeah…I just like your necklace. It’s neat,” This pleased Dean as his smile spread across his lips once more, though he had turned back to the road. He took the right turn Castiel had directed him to and continued straight.

“Turn right at the house with all the lawn ornaments. You’ll know it when you see it,” the teen added.

“My brother gave it to me when we were kids,” the hunter said, “The necklace.” He needed to talk about something or he would certainly go crazy. John wasn’t one to talk, and he didn’t care to listen either. So Dean practically jumped at any chance to have a conversation, even if this kid was a potential cockblock

“You have a brother?” he asked, looking towards the man with honest curiosity. Dean flicked his green hues to him, surprised to see the expression. Most of the time, people continued a conversation just to keep talking or to get something out of it. For some unknown reason, this kid actually wanted to know about Dean.

He wasn’t sure if he liked that or if it unsettled him.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “You?”

“Three. And a sister. She’s the only one younger than me,” he murmured.

“Haha, so you’re the baby boy, huh?” Without thinking, he reached over and ruffled the teenager’s hair. Castiel frowned, almost pouting, as he leaned away from the driver.

“You know, I’m graduating this year, so I’m far from a baby,” the younger male retorted, giving him a skeptical stare. Dean thought about trying to explain that he was only teasing him, but decided against it. This kid really could not take a joke.

“Damn,” he swore as the house with all the lawn ornaments came into view. There were dozens of gnomes, a flock of bright pink flamingos, several Greek statues, and other odds and ends that the hunter was sure had to be customized or something. Frankly, it was creepy.

“It’s pretty creepy,” Castiel murmured, frowning at the gaudiness of their lawn. Dean chuckled, turning right.

“That the place down there? Hungry Harriet’s?” he chanced a look over at him, “Hungry Harriet’s…seriously?” The teen shrugged, a slight smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. The adult sighed, deciding it wasn’t his place to question it. Good pie was good pie, after all.

He pulled into a parking spot along the curb before shutting the car off. As Castiel unbuckled, the older man reached back to grab the book bag. Its owner frowned at the action.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t you want your stuff?”

“Aren’t you driving me home?” He had assumed that, despite the pie-induced detour, he would still be given a ride home what with his barely injured leg and all. Dean mulled this over for a second, and then dropped the bag back into the seat. He had promised to take him home and he had nothing else to do, anyway.

Except perhaps get laid, but he had time to cruise some bars before the night was out.

“Then let’s go get something to eat.” He got out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Castiel followed, trying not to slam the door behind him as he did so. The men strolled into the small restaurant, the teenager smiling brightly as he did so. His companion was about to ask why when an elderly woman rushed over and hugged the teenager. She began fawning over the boy, pestering him with questions and compliments.

“The family’s fine, Mrs. Fredericks.”

“And school? Are you keeping up with your studies?”

“Of course. I got accepted by a couple different colleges so now I’m just narrowing it down,” he said this before adding, “But I won’t leave until next year. I can’t leave you to run this place by yourself this summer.”

“Oh bless you, boy…and who might this be?” She looked Dean over, as if taking in his presence for the first time. Though her face showed curiosity, her eyes betrayed her. He was much older than the boy, and she didn’t like that. Castiel took a step back, placing a hand on the man’s arm with a calming smile.

“This is Dean. He saved me from Russell.”

“That Bradwell boy?” Castiel nodded, resulting in an outraged scoff from the old woman, “I knew that Russell was trouble from the moment I laid eyes on him. Are you alright, sweetie? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”She rushed forward, patting his face, looking for any visual confirmation of wounds. He shook his head, taking her hands in his.

“Just a few scratches and bruises, Mrs. Fredericks. It would’ve been much worse if Dean hadn’t come to my rescue, so I thought I’d show him where he best pie in town is.” The woman smiled, waving the teenager’s words away as if some cheap compliment. Still, she beckoned them to follow her to a booth.

“You’re too kind to an old woman, Castiel. You wait here and I’ll bring out some Cokes – free of charge for saving my little angel helper.” She put her hand on the boy’s shoulder, though her wink was aimed at Dean. Once the boys thanked her, she walked away towards the back and the kitchen hidden therein. Instead of pulling out the dessert menu by their condiments and such, the hunter leaned in towards Castiel with a smile.

“She sure likes you. What’d you do, save her kitten from getting run over?” he asked. Castiel frowned, tilting his head slightly.

“No, I work here during the summers. I make pretty good milkshakes, so it can get pretty crowded in here. She appreciated the business; that’s all,” he answered, “She’s a kind woman, so I like to help her when I can.”

“Well, aren’t you little mister perfect?”

“No, I only try to help. Isn’t that human nature?” Again, the humor flew right over his head.

“Yeah, for most people.”

“Only most?”

“There’re some crazy people out there,” Dean told with a reluctant look about him.

“…are you one of those crazy people?” The response was immediate laughter as the hunter leaned back in his seat.

“I’m definitely some kind of crazy, but not that bad.” Castiel smiled at his answer, leaning a bit closer to the man. Harriet Fredericks came back out, two cold bottles of Coke for them.

“So what brings you to town, Dean?” she asked, leaning on his side of the booth.

“Just travelling through,” he answered before taking a swig of his drink. He would have rather had a beer, but he didn’t have anything against a nice cool soda. The teenager sipped from his own bottle, contemplating that. What strange luck he had to meet such an interesting passer-by.

“Oh? How long you staying?”

“I’m, ah, not sure yet. Probably just another day or two…Can I get some of that pie now?” Harriet feigned embarrassment, laughing somewhat nervously.

“Heavens, aren’t I forgetful? I’ll come right out with a big slice for you, alright?” She patted his arm before turning around and going back to the kitchen. As she gathered the dessert together, Dean and Castiel continued their idle chat – ranging from their favorite music to their school experiences. The younger male found it surprisingly easy to share himself with his new friend; yet he couldn’t quite place a reason why. 

Any time he tried to pin it on some physical characteristic, all he could think of was the fact that his legs were stretched out to Castiel’s side, though he had angled them so he wasn’t stepping on the teenager. But he could still feel a strong leg brush against his calf and it sent a few tingling shivers down his spine. He thought about pressing his leg closer to see how Dean would react when Mrs. Fredericks came out with a big slice of blueberry pie as well as two generous scoops of vanilla ice cream.

“Here you go, boys.” She set down two forks for them, winking at Castiel. He flushed, realizing what she was thinking. The older man seemed to catch on as he smiled politely, but gained a defensive sort of air.

“No, it’s not…we’re not…I don’t swing-”

“You don’t need to say a thing,” Harriet assured, “I’ve known this boy for years and most everybody’s fine with all types around here. So don’t you worry, Dean.” She gave them another smile and left them to eat their pie, not allowing the man to explain the situation. He then turned his attention to Castiel, who was sliding the plate closer to his friend.

“Sorry, she just assumed-”

“Castiel, are-”

“She doesn’t mean any harm by-”

“-you gay?” Dean finished, though the expression he bore showed that he was already sure of the answer. The teenager shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming against the table’s edge.

“Yeah,” he responded, “Is that a problem?”

“…no, I don’t care if you’re…that way or whatever. Is that why those kids were beating you up?”

“No, and I’d rather not talk about it.” It had been a hurried reply, and his gaze was fixated on a nearby salt shaker. Dean wasn’t one to pry so he changed the subject.

“Well, you might as well have some.” The plate was pushed back to the middle of the table. At first, Castiel simply ignored the action; he gulped down some of his soda, eyes fnow ocused on the man’s fork. It cut off a rather large – yet still bite-sized – piece of the pie and scooped it up with some of the ice cream. The younger male bit the inside of his cheek as he watched that forkful pass his friend’s lips. Once the fork was pulled back empty, Dean let out a satisfied moan.

“That…is some damn good pie,” he decided, a smile slipping across the lips that Castiel was trying to look away from. He needed to focus on something else, or he would be caught staring. So he picked up his own fork and began devouring the dessert one bite at a time.

*

“So you live in here?” Dean wondered, never having been in a gated community before. Every house looked big, fancy, and expensive – all in all, everything the hunter never had. Castiel glanced over at him, wondering if this made him feel uncomfortable. He nodded though, pointing to his house in the distance.

“Yes, that’s where my brothers and sister and I live.”

“…what about parents?” the adult asked. There was no way a bunch of children could afford to live here; not to mention they wouldn’t fit in since the only people Dean had seen here were probably around sixty and above.

They did indeed live there, but Castiel was frowning. He had completely forgotten to mention his father. How could he forget to mention him? What kind of son would do that?

“Well, my father took us all in a few years ago, but recently his work had been requiring most of his time so he hardly comes home. But he sends us letters to check on us sometimes, so he really is just busy. He’ll be back when things calm down,” the teenager explained, rubbing his own hand as he did so. The driver thought about responding to that, but could easily tell there was some self-assurance in there and decided against it. Again, Dean simply wasn’t one to pry.

“This your place?” he slowed in front of the house he thought the younger male had pointed to. Castiel nodded and reached back for his book bag.

“Thank you for the ride home,” he began, “and the pie…and for saving me from….”

“Getting the crap beat out of you?” Dean supplied. The younger man bit back his smile,  
finding the man’s manner of speech endearing somehow.

“Yes. That.” He then leaned over towards him, closing the distance between them until his lips pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek. His lips were soft and light on the older man’s flesh, only remaining for a moment before pulling away.

“Thanks,” he murmured with a slight smile. Instead of waiting for a response, he opened the passenger door and climbed out of the car.

“Goodbye, Dean.” He pulled his backpack onto his shoulder while he shut the door. The hunter watched him make his way towards the house, not bothering to drive away until he was sure Castiel was inside and the door was closed. After all the years of chasing monsters, being overprotective was second-nature to him – though he would hardly ever admit it.

When he finally began driving away, a realization struck him. The kid from before, the one that had looked back to Castiel, wasn’t threatening him, but promising him.  
He hadn’t saved the teen at all; he’d just made his next beating all the worse…

*

“I’m home,” Castiel called, kicking his shoes off at the entryway. There was no verbal response, but he could hear someone in the kitchen. Quietly, hesitantly, he headed towards the sounds and smells of what could only be dinner. There was his older brother, Uriel, busy at cooking.

The brunette took a step into the room, “Hello brother...” His sibling turned to give him an annoyed stare.

“You’re late,” his gaze softened a bit, “If you had to stay after school, you should have just called, Castiel.”

“I’m sorry, I meant to but-”

“Don’t give me any excuses. I’ve already started dinner.”

“Would you like my help?” he asked, seeking redemption.

“No...Go to your room and do your homework or something,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to the food. Castiel stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably.

“Tomorrow is your night to do dishes, isn’t it? Let me do that, brother, since you took over for me tonight. Would that be alright?”

“Hm.” Whenever Uriel gave a grunted response like that, it was the closest he would ever get to forgiveness. So, with a relieved smile, the teenager did as he was told and went upstairs to his bedroom. He was only mildly surprised to see Balthazar already in there. Being so close in age, the two shared a room. Anna of course got her own room and Uriel would have shared one with Zachariah had he stayed to live with them.

What did surprise him was that Balthazar was smoking a joint by the window in their room – which was wide open to allow him to puff the smoke into the outside rather than clouding up their room. He was lucky the window was located at the back of the house, so no one would see him blatantly toking up. His brother quickly entered the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Brother, why are you doing that here?” he hissed, taking a few steps closer to him. Not too close, of course, for fear that he would inhale some of the airborne marijuana. Balthazar smiled slowly, letting out a chuckle.

“Cas,” he cooed, “Come sit with me.” Castiel looked cautious at first, but his feet led him to sit beside his brother on the bed. The drugged brother leaned closer to him, even moving to lean his head on the brunette’s shoulder. The action was allowed, as the British teenager was more of a physical person; he enjoyed the hugs and kisses on the cheek as well as cuddling.

Sometimes, Castiel would have a nightmare and it was always the same one: there would be this uncontrollable force in his body, as if a million burning suns had inhabited him, and he could only watch as they destroyed everything. But no matter how hard he tried, he could never regain control and was simply forced to watch. Eventually, he would manage to wake himself up in a cold sweat, tears already forming in his eyes.

Every night this happened, Balthazar would climb into his bed and hold him close, whispering words of comfort as his sibling cried. He knew at his age that it was foolish to cry over a silly nightmare, but it would feel so terrifyingly real that he just couldn’t help it.

“I didn’t feel like going outside today,” he finally murmured in response, “How is my baby brother? Was school good for you?” He looked up at him before giving his sibling a slow, drawn-out blink.

“It was fine. I have plenty of homework to do…I had to comfort Rachel, though. She got an A- on her uniform inspection because one of her pins was crooked.”

“Poor Cas…how did you manage?” he sympathized as he leaned back away from the teenager.  
He took a drag from his joint, puffing the smoke out the window. Castiel appreciated that his brother knew him so well. He was probably the worst shoulder to cry on, practically incapable of comforting another human being even if his life depended on it. Not to mention that it made him extremely uncomfortable, which is why he valued Balthazar comforting him during those nightmares all the more.

“I did what you do, brother. I told her it was okay and that there was a tomorrow to enjoy,” he answered with a proud smile. The Brit regarded him, his heart skipping a beat. His brother tossed around that innocent, admiring expression too freely. He saw it nearly every day and it made his situation all the worse. But in his less than coherent state, inhibitions seemed to leave him for the moment.

“You really are so sweet, Cas,” he complimented, “So handsome and kind and…desirable.” His hand moved from the space between their legs to rest on top of the brunette’s thigh. Castiel looked slightly embarrassed, though more uncomfortable than that.

“I was just doing what you always do,” he murmured, not bothering to shift away from the touch; he thought nothing of it, as Balthazar always seemed to enjoy physical contact. He knew something was amiss, however, when that hand slid closer to the inside of his leg. His blue hues shifted to see his brother watching his smoke disappear into the air. The man must not have known what he was doing; it must have been a slip of the hand. It was harder to pass off when it moved closer still. He wasn’t sure how to address the situation, because he still wasn’t sure 

Balthazar realized what he was doing.

He still wasn’t sure how to react when that hand finally reached his groin, rubbing the flaccid cock through the layers of clothes.

“B-Balthazar!” he stammered, starting to pull away. His brother would not have it. He set the joint down on the window sill before grabbing him and keeping him close. His hand continued to grope at him while he simply smiled at the brunette.

“I told you, Cas. You’re so desirable,” the drugged man whispered as he leaned closer, “Too much, actually…I suppose I’m lucky we’re not really related.” With that, he pressed his lips against Castiel’s protesting ones, forcing a kiss onto his foster brother. He tried to pull away, tried to push him back, but Balthazar kept his grip firm on the boy, licking the other’s bottom lip as if wanting entrance to his mouth.

“Stop,” he pleaded against the crushing lips. For some reason, that struck a chord with the Brit, because he released his sibling. When Castiel stood up, he made no move to stop him. He did smile, however, when a trembling hand sought to touch his freshly kissed lips.

“Did you like it? Do you want to come back here, Cas? We could kiss some more if you’d like…or we could go further than that, if you’re ready.” He winked at him, totally unphased by what he had just done. He never was, though.

“You should finish your smoke,” Castiel murmured, “before Uriel calls us for dinner.” The other teenager suddenly remembered his joint and turned to the window sill. Before he could even put it between his lips, the brunette grabbed his bag, unlocked the door, and rushed from his room. He managed to shut the door as he left, keeping Balthazar from being exposed to the family. The boy stood in the hallway, calming himself as he did every time.

Every once in a while, his brother would smoke inside the house rather than go to his usual spot in the woods. It would happen for any odd reason – rain, snow, too much wind, anything – and some of those times Castiel would catch him “midflight,” as he called it. For some reason, Balthazar would attempt to do things to his sibling, things that he would never do if he were coherent.

The brunette usually managed to stop him before things got past that first kiss, but sometimes he would start differently or he would be far more demanding.

Only once had Castiel not been able to stop him. He remembered the disgust and embarrassment he felt when his brother had stripped him down to his underwear, remembered being horrified at his sibling’s erection.

He had been so glad, and fortunate, when Balthazar decided to stop and sneak downstairs for a midnight snack. By the time he came back up, Castiel had tossed his pajamas on over his remaining underwear and was feigning sleep. Munching on some chips, the Brit simply crawled into his own bed without bothering his “victim.”

Castiel glanced at his bedroom door; it wasn’t safe to return at least until after dinner. So he continued down the hall, knocking on his sister Anna’s door. She opened it, her hair in shambles. 

Or perhaps it was an attempt to braid it?

“Castiel, what’s wrong?” she questioned, looking up to him curiously. He gave her an apologetic smile.

“Can’t I just come to see what my little sister is up to?” She continued to look at him, as if it would reveal some sort of answer. It didn’t, but she allowed him in anyway. Her radio was on, the sound of a woman crooning about dropping from grace trailing through the room. Castiel set his bag down by the edge of her bed, turning back to the girl.

“Sister…do you need help with your hair?” he offered. Anna smiled sheepishly, grabbing her hair brush and handing it to him.

“Yes please.” He sat down on the floor after leaving his bag by the door with his younger sibling sitting cross-legged in front of him. Brushing her long, copper hair seemed to soothe him and before long he found he had gotten lost in the repetitive action.

“…is something on your mind, brother?”

“Hm?” he snapped out of his stupor, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, you’ve been brushing my hair for the past ten minutes,” she answered with a smile. Castiel frowned, not realizing so much time had passed.

“Well...” He wasn’t sure what to tell her. So he simply trailed off and focused on braiding his sister’s lovely hair. Anna allowed the silence for a moment or two, until her hair was at least half-braided, before persisting in her query.

“Are you thinking about a boy?”

“Wha- No, sister. Why would I be thinking about some boy?” Of course, the first one that came to mind was his “hero” from earlier that day. He certainly was an attractive man, and seemed amusing. He knew that he would never see him again, though. At least he had shared a slice of pie with him.

“What’s his name?” she almost sang, not letting go of the subject.

“Dean,” he replied before thinking better of it. Her eyes went wide and she twisted around, meeting his gaze steadily. The smile spread across her lips warned him that this was only the beginning of a far too intrusive conversation. But he could never leave his sister unanswered and worse, he could never lie to her. Yes, the Balthazar situation was a terrible secret to bear that, on several occasions, he had almost shared with his ginger sibling.

“Who’s this Dean? Is he new at your school? Is he cute? Did he ask you out?” The eagerness in her face slightly frightened her brother, but he relinquished her unfinished hair.

“He doesn’t go to school.”

“Oh, so he’s a rebel?”

“No, he graduated years ago. He’s…He said he was twenty-six,” he admitted. If Anna’s eyes could have bugged out any more, they would have.

“Castiel, that means he’s practically a decade older than you!” she observed, “How did you meet him? Who made the first move? Oh tell me, brother!” Castiel couldn’t help the smile that formed across his lips. His sister enjoyed a good story far too much.

But a good story he gave her. From being attacked by Brad and his gang all the way to kissing Dean’s cheek in the car, he kept her eyes riveted on him. She especially seemed interested in the fact that Dean hadn’t driven off until her older brother was inside the house – something he himself had noticed as well.

“He likes you,” she teased, nudging him. He shook his head, smiling at the sister.

“He does not. He just…wanted to make sure I was safe,” he argued. Anna laughed.  
“Deny it all you want, brother. I think this Dean guy likes you,” she persisted. Castiel made a sound of disagreement, spinning her around to reach her hair once more. He undid the braid that had more or less come apart to brush through it once again. She sat in silence, enjoying the feel of her sibling twisting her hair around and around until it was in a tight braid. He wrapped a hair band around the end of it before scooting back on the floor, giving her room to stand.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Castiel…I wish I could manage my hair as well as you can,” she commented as she admired his handiwork in the mirror. Her brother rose to his feet.

“It only takes patience and a steady hand,” the brunette replied, patting the top of his sibling’s head. Anna smiled up at him and took his hand in her own.

“The steady hand I have. It’s the patience that gets me.”

“One day,” he chuckled, “You will find it one day, sister.” Rather than staying with her until dinner, the teenager decided he would be better off doing his homework downstairs in the living room. He hoisted his bag onto his shoulder once more.

“Castiel?” the younger minor called. He turned to face her, wondering what his dear sister could want.

“Do you think you’ll ever see Dean again?” Her question was an innocent one, he could tell by the lack of abundant excitement from her face. Instead, he saw a curiosity that matched his own. 

Would he ever see the man again? He hardly thought so, as Dean had only been passing through.

“No,” he finally said, “I don’t think I will.” Anna’s face suddenly fell in disappointment, but her eyes slid back up to meet the blue hues of her brother.

“Well…if you do, will you promise me that you’ll try asking him out?” she requested. It was odd, but the older teen nodded as he shifted the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other.

“I promise I’ll ask,” he agreed, holding his hand up as if it proved anything. With that, his sibling’s smile had returned and he went down to do his homework without a troubled conscience. He would keep his promise if the opportunity arose and – either by luck or possibly by fate – he would invite Dean out on a date whenever they met each other again, if that ever happened.

But it was highly unlikely.

*

“Hello, Cassie,” Brad called, “Missed you yesterday.” Castiel glared; he should have known it would take more than a threat or two to scare him off. Russell and his gang were back, and he was sure they wanted retribution for the damage they hadn’t gotten to cause yesterday.

“It’s Friday, Brad. Just let me go home in one piece and you can beat me to a pulp on Monday. Please, just-”

“And let you go crying home to your boyfriend? Oh, I don’t think so.” He snapped his fingers and the gang came running towards the brunette. He tried to outrun them, but they had caught up within a matter of seconds. One grabbed his hair, using his grip to pull him back to Brad.

“And you know what? I think I’d like to see what’s in your bag now,” he mused. Before he had the chance to spot them, if he could have, the backpack was torn from him and handed to the drug dealer. He unzipped the pockets, rummaging through it. Everyone had stopped to see what was in it, but when Russell noticed this, he didn’t seem to appreciate it.

“Did I tell you to stop?” he asked his followers. They immediately turned to Castiel, throwing punches and kicks. Normally, the teen would simply take his beating quietly and go home to lick his wounds. But he saw an opening and, without a thought, tightened his fist and swung. He hit the kid right in the face, his nose erupting with blood. Of course, the two others then held him down to the ground, their grips painful.

“Did you see that?”

“Didn’t know the faggot had it in him,” the other sneered, digging his knee further into Castiel’s back. He bit his lip to keep down the groan of pain, watching as Brad came and crouched right in front of him.

“Oh Cassie….that was a bad idea,” he chided, “Now I have this inkling that I should give you a little fairie dust. I’ll just slip in a little bag of it for you and take this bag straight to the principal. How do you think the principal would feel about that?”

“You wouldn’t…you’d lose money if you did that!” he spluttered, gasping for the breath that he’d just wasted. The goons crushing his ribcage certainly weren’t leaving any room for his lungs. Brad simply laughed at him, patting his cheek harshly – though not harsh enough to call it a slap.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. He never realized it, but your brother? I’ve been overcharging him for his weekly fix. With the money I’m making off of that sucker, I can do anything I want. He just needed it so badly...bet he’d do anything to get it too. Maybe I’ll up the price again. How does that sound? Maybe I can get him to sell me you? Bet you’d fetch a good price on the market…well, not after we’re through with you.” Castiel wasn’t sure what was a bluff and what wasn’t at that point. All he knew was that he was going to get the beating of a lifetime and his only thought was how he wished Dean was here…

“Alright, cut the crap and back off the kid.” The voice came from behind him, but in his current state he couldn’t see its owner. Then again, the fear that washed over Brad’s face was enough.

“Oh not you, you pesky little rat. Boys, get him and don’t run off with your tail between your legs this time, alright?” The weight on Castiel’s back was then removed, giving him the chance to scramble up to his feet. He looked towards his school mates, watching as they tried to take on his savior…

“Dean?” The man glanced over, tossing him a smile before returning his attention to the3 others. It only took a few harsh shoves and all but Russell were running away, tripping over themselves in their hurry to escape. Their leader remained, however.

“You little shit,” he barked before he went for Castiel. Dean went to stop him, but his companion tightened his fist once again, pulled it back and punched the drug dealer somewhere in the vicinity of his torso. It landed apparently, causing Brad to stumble backwards a ways.

“Next time-” The adult took a menacing step towards him, ready to finish whatever had been started.

“There won’t be a next time,” Dean warned, his gaze unwavering. The enemy looked a little nervous, until he glanced over at Castiel with a suddenly bitter expression.

“Just you wait,” he said, “Your boyfriend won’t always be there to keep you safe…and that’s when I’ll really fuck you up.”

“Wanna bet on that?” the hunter challenged while he slipped an arm around the brunette’s shoulders. Brad scowled, but made no verbal response.

“That’s right. Back off for good and maybe I won’t have to come and really kick your ass.” He didn’t bother to wait for a response before using his grip on the other man’s shoulders to turn him around and lead him towards the still running Impala. He was glad to see her there, waiting. In all honesty, he never usually left her with the keys in the ignition for fear that someone would steal his beloved car. But when he saw Castiel getting pinned down, he barely gave it a second thought before he threw the car into park and jumped in to save him. It was his fault, after all, that it had appeared to get worse than before.

“That kid…with the broken nose...” he murmured as they approached the Impala. Deep blue eyes flicked up towards him.

“What about him?”

“You do that?” Dean finally looked at him, opening the passenger door as he did so. The teenager looked away bashfully before meeting his gaze.

“Lucky hit, I guess.” He really did believe that, as he had never really hit anyone before. Not to mention that the outcome showed he had much more strength than he had ever thought was possible from someone like him – he hadn’t exercised in practically two years, after all. Castiel slid into the seat, focusing on the buckle of his seat rather than catch Dean staring at him in surprise. But the hunter was taking it calmly; he’d certainly seen stranger. In fact, he was fairly proud of the kid.

“Sweet,” he commented before shutting the door and moving to climb into the driver’s side.

“So…” The brunette glanced out of the corner of his eye at the older male, his hands gripped around the backpack he’d managed to hoist off of the ground before they left. Dean understood there was going to be a conversation, so he turned to face the teenager, left arm leaning on the steering wheel.

“I’ll give you another ride home if you want it, but I don’t think those guys’ll be bothering you anytime soon.” Castiel had to admit that sooner or later, Brad would be back and would be pissed as he had ever been.

“Actually…since you saved me again and all…why don’t I treat you to some food?”

“Like more of that pie?” Dean had to admit; he could be easily coerced into getting another slice of that heaven.

“Well, sort of. Except there’d be a meal before that, and it would last a little longer,” he continued, trying to appease the promise he’d made with his sister without calling it what it was intended to be.

“…Castiel, are you trying to ask me out on a date?” Castiel’s hope fell. The man was smarter than he looked – though, that wouldn’t have been a downside in any other situation.

“You could call it that, if you wanted to,” he offered, trying to play it cool, “Or it could just be two friends eating food. That does happen on occasion, doesn’t it?” He hadn’t been able to move his gaze from his tightly held bag, but he managed to work up the courage and gave Dean a curious expression. It was returned with what appeared to be a thought processing. After a minute or so, the adult turned to face forward in his seat and switched the car out of park and into drive.

“As long as you’re buying,” he reminded. A small smile fluttered across Castiel’s face.

“As long as you don’t eat too much.”

“Just give me a couple of burgers and I’m golden. Where to?”

*

“Why?” Castiel’s expression was one of confusion while his fingers twisted the straw of his drink.

“Why what?” his companion said around a mouthful of burger.

“You travel all around the country with just that car…why do you do it?” He finally reached for the hefty sandwich, unable to resist the aroma of the beef and cheese. It was normally his friend Jesse who would eat the burger while he would simply take a sandwich wrap – something far neater than the grease dripping, ketchup splattering mess he was currently biting into. But the flavor was worth it.

“…when I was little, my mom…” He set the sandwich down, his gaze following it to the plate, “She passed away. Dad didn’t take it well, and we went through some rough times, especially when my brother left for college, but now I just…keep going, you know? I don’t know why I do it, but it’s hard to just stop moving after all this.” Deep blue hues were trained on Dean, a look of sympathy surrounding them.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he murmured. The man shrugged, eating his burger once again.

“It’s in the past.” Castiel took this into account and understood it meant his friend would rather not talk about the subject further. So they ate in silence, simply following bite after bite until they were eating into their fries. While the teenager squirted ketchup onto his plate for them, Dean went straight to chomping. 

“You eat your fries plain?” he asked curiously.

“Yep,” he replied before stuffing a few more into his mouth. The younger male frowned; his attempt at small talk was a failure. Holding back a sigh, he set the container of ketchup aside to enjoy his food. He dipped a fry into the ketchup, swirling it around for a few seconds before sticking it past his lips. It was almost as good as the burger, he noted with satisfaction. He ate another, though this one dripped ketchup onto another spot on his plate. It took him only a second to grab the next fry and scoop up the suicidal condiment.

The hunter watched this, finding it more interesting than his own naked fries. So, without asking, he grabbed a French fry, reached over, and dipped it into the teen’s ketchup. Castiel watched with mild amusement as his companion tasted the combination.

“…is it good?” he asked, a smile twitching at his lips.

“It’s okay,” the older man answered, repeating the action. Eventually, the brunette simply slid his plate closer to the middle of the table. The pair chatted for hours – about odd topics again, though it seemed to lean more towards Dean and his life.

“So what did you do, exactly, before you started on this road trip?”

“Not much really,” he lied, “Guess I did some mechanics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I could take my baby apart and rebuild her with my eyes closed,” he grinned, winking out of habit. Castiel’s amazement melted into a smile.

“Oh wow, that’s pretty impressive,” he said, “Where’d you learn to figure all that out?” At this, Dean leaned back in preparation to downplay his boasting.

“Nowhere, really. I just kind of figured it out as I went,” he had planned to keep looking cool at this but a reminder popped into his head, “Actually…my dad taught me a lot of it. You know, how cars run and everything...”

“…I don’t know, actually. That’s probably why I think it’s so impressive that you do,” he admitted, skillfully avoiding the subject of Dean’s father.

“Didn’t your dad ever try to teach you?”

“Him? No, he…he’s a different sort of dad. He didn’t try to force anything on his children – not sports, or acting, or anything. Somehow, he brings out the best in us, our best quality, and helps us refine it until we take it into our hands and it just...blows me away, how he can be so influential but so laissez-faire at the same time.”

“Excuse me, lahzey what?”

“It means hands off. Sorry, I had government today…” he murmured sheepishly, “But my father gets us to focus on our best qualities, and I guess engineering and mechanics aren’t mine.” Dean shrugged.

“Hate to argue with your pop, but you never know until you try.”

“And how would I do that? Are you going to teach me?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought you were moving on to the next city,” he reminded.

“I’m actually waiting for a call from my dad to meet up with him. Until then, why don’t I teach you how to fix a car? You have to know at least that before you go running off to college or whatever,” he offered.

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

“Sure,” he reassured, “How about I pick you up after school lets out and then we pull into  
a parking lot or something and I show you a thing or two before taking you home? Plus it’ll help scare off that Brad brat and his goons.” Castiel seemed to mull this over. He would get picked up by a fairly attractive man in front of his school, and then taken to a more or less empty parking lot where they worked under the warm sun with greasy car parts.

Whether he cared about cars or not, how could a poor boy say no to that?

“Alright…sounds good,” he agreed with a smile. That prompted an entirely new conversation, one that took them well through dessert and even a few extra malt-shakes, about cars. In all honesty, the teenager could have cared less; but the way Dean got excited over the subject, how invested he was in his own words, was nearly irresistible. The man loved his automobiles. Eventually though, the sun sank below the horizon and the hour grew late. Castiel happened to catch a glimpse of the time and when he did, his blue eyes widened in surprise.

“Is it that late already?” He pulled out his phone and checked; there were already two missed calls from home. Oh, Uriel was going to castrate him for missing curfew.

“Huh, guess so. I’d better get you home soon,” the older man decided, reaching into his wallet. Castiel stopped him, pulling a few twenties out of his own pocket. He took one last sip of his shake before slipping out of the booth.

“You sure?”

“Of course. I told you that I’d pay, Dean.”

“If you say so, Cas,” he muttered before following his movement away from the booth. The brunette paused, not having expected his companion to call him that. Dean noticed his pause and put a hand on his shoulder in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…” the teen began walking towards the exit, acting as if nothing had happened, “Sorry about that; it was nothing, really.” At this point, the hunter’s creed in not prying was beginning to wear thin. But he wouldn’t be seeing the boy much longer, so he could deal with the growing curiosity.

They climbed into his car silently – though the silence was surprisingly comfortable – and drove off towards Castiel’s house.

“Do you think you’ll be in a lot of trouble?” he asked. Keeping quiet during car rides was unheard of for Dean, after all. The teenager shrugged, glancing at the clock.

“No one has ever missed curfew except Balthazar…and I helped him sneak in so nobody knew,” he paused to contemplate his near future, “Uriel will probably be furious. He might ground me, but the punishment will probably be worse than that.”

“I guess I can come in and talk to him or something. Would that help?”

“I…doubt that would be a good idea, given the situation.”

“Right.”

“Don’t worry, Dean. I’ll be fine. It was worth it,” he assured. The man glanced over at him, attention caught by the smile his companion bore. Rather than responding though, he simply returned his focus to the road and drove to the younger male’s house. Every once in a while, Castiel peeked over at him through the corner of his eye in hopes that they would start talking again. 

Instead, the silence continued to fill the space between them; but with each secret glance, he took in more and more of the man. He was holding the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles beginning to whiten slightly from his grip. His jaw was clenched, his breath slow and thoughtful, and his posture upright save for his casually spread legs.

The teen was going to try and initiate a conversation when Dean turned to catch him staring.

“…we’re here.” Castiel looked past him and saw the man’s words were true. There was his home, nearly all the lights of the lower floor on. He was in for a long night, surely. But for now, he could still enjoy being around this new friend.

“Thanks again for the ride,” he said, “I had a great time tonight.”

“Whoa man, I told you. Don’t swing that way,” the hunter reminded while he gave his younger friend a suspicious stare.

“I was just saying I had fun. Would you rather have me tell you it was cool hanging out with you, man?” The last part was said teasingly, mocking the way some of his fellow students spoke. It made Dean chuckle and he reached over to ruffle the teenager’s hair.

“Forget it.” His laughter died down fairly quickly, though his hand lingered a second longer than he would have liked. But when he pulled away, it seemed there was nothing else to say other than the obvious. Their night was over; at least, Castiel’s was. The older male decided he would go and hit up some bars in town, try to pick up some women, maybe call his father’s phone one more time.

As he thought this, the teenager seemed to realize he would have to be the one to bid farewell first.

“Well…goodnight.”

“Yeah, night.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured before leaning over to kiss the man’s cheek, just as he had done the first night. Yet, as he leaned in closer, Dean seemed to take it in slow motion. The eyes fluttered closed, the lips just barely pursed, the shoulders curved towards him...His gaze continued downwards until he was more or less checking the brunette out. There was no particular reason he’d done it, but he had to admit the teenager wasn’t too bad to look at. When he tried to explain to himself why he was noticing this, why he was hanging out with him, why he had been so concerned with this kid to start with…

He simply couldn’t. All that made sense in the two seconds it took for Castiel to reach his cheek was the command of a voice that Dean couldn’t quite place.

Turn.

Without a second thought, he did so. And lips pressed against his own, causing those blue hues to open in surprise. Neither man could explain what was happening, but the teen wasn’t about to pull away from that soft, delicious mouth.

“Mm.” He made the sound of approval, even moving one of his hands to the man’s thigh to support him as he all but leaned into his companion. Before he could do anything more, Dean tilted his head and began to work his lips against the younger pair. Though the teenager was surprised, he kissed back while his hand moved a little further up the man’s thigh. A hand buried itself in brunette locks, trying to pull Castiel closer. He made a half-hearted moan, enjoying the sensation of kissing his older friend.

“Cas,” Dean murmured against the lips. Instead of going to the bar, he was now entertaining the idea of simply taking this boy to his motel room and doing the experimenting he missed out on during his earlier years. And at this point, with his body slowly catching fire, Castiel would have eagerly agreed.

However, that fire only burned hotter and hotter until Dean’s hand actually began to feel that warmth. His brows furrowed, but there was no way he would pull away from this kiss for anything less than some monster activity. Yet, as his tongue flicked itself across the younger man’s lower lip, the hunter noticed through his eyelids a light shining on him. He opened his eyes, expecting a passing car or – though he hoped not – someone from the house.

That light was Castiel, actually. It was a dim glow, but he could tell it was brightening into something similar to sunshine.

It took a moment to fully process, but eventually Dean realized the teenager he was kissing was suddenly showing off bioluminescence. He tore away from him, his expression one of shock and confusion.

“The hell?” he shouted. He’d been about to make out with what he now assumed was some kind of demon or monster. If Castiel was a witch, so help him…

“I, I don’t know!” he replied in terror, panicked eyes staring at his brightly lit palms, “I can’t…I…” He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed that growing hysteria so that it lay dormant and unbuckled his seat belt. He threw open the door and spilled out, stumbling to his feet as he continued to glow.

Without looking back at the Impala, the brunette sprinted up his walkway. As the distance between the two men increased, the mysterious light began to die down until his hand gripped the front door’s handle; by then the light was gone completely. He threw it open, dashed inside, and slammed it behind him. It had just closed when he pressed against it, eyes wide.

Uriel came storming to the foyer with the intent of tearing his younger brother a new one. Yet, when he saw him slumped against the door, terror etched into his features, his worry replaced all anger.

“What is wrong, brother?” he asked as he slowly came closer.

“You will…think I’m crazy…”

“Tell me anyway, my brother.” He was crouched in front of him, now, his face more sympathetic than it had ever been towards Castiel. The teenager looked to him, his eyes now a deeper blue.

“Brother, I…I was-” There were a few knocks on the door – though sounded more like someone smashing their fist against the wood.

“Cas!” Dean shouted from the other side, “Cas, what the hell was with that glowing crap?”

“Dean, I’m sorry! Just…just go!” He covered his head with his arms, afraid he would start to shine again. If he had looked, though, he would have seen Uriel smiling at him. The older man patted his sibling’s knee. He then rose to his feet and moved to open the door for the man who sounded as if he was trying to break it down. The teenager heard his brother stand and looked up to him with a pleading look; there was no way he could face Dean. Although, the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why Uriel wasn’t mad and had a smile spread across his lips.

“Cas, open up!” the hunter shouted. The door finally opened – which was admittedly a good thing because he was tempted to simply break it down – but he was greeted by a large black man instead of the bio-luminescent teenager he’d just chased after. Unless…

“Hello,” he greeted, “I’m Uriel, Castiel’s older brother. Come inside and maybe you could stop trying to break our front door.” The tone he used for the last part of that gave Dean the impression that this guy was fairly high up on the douchebag scale. Still, he headed inside after the man, only to have his attention caught by a bleary-eyed brunette. Their eyes met for that split second, but Castiel looked away towards the ground. Uriel continued to the living room, Dean following behind him, and paused only to motion for the newcomer to sit down.

“You too, Castiel. I would rather have told you with Zachariah here, but the situation being what it is, I think now is best.”

“Best for what?” he demanded, not looking at the teenager when he sat beside him on the couch. Uriel just smiled, though it was now to hide the bubbling confusing and all-around anger he was beginning to feel. These two certainly didn’t seem to mean much to each other.

“It’s time you know, Castiel…you’re an angel.”

“Wh-what? Brother, that isn’t…now isn’t the time for jokes!” he cried, tears coming closer to being shed.

“And I’m not joking. We’re all angels, little brother. You see, several human years ago, some of us chose to disobey God and began to fight over the rule of Heaven and, eventually, the Earth. These mud-monkeys-”

“Mud-monkeys?” Dean challenged when Uriel had gestured in his direction.

“-had no idea what was going on, of course. But He did, and He was not happy. So He sent all  
His angels to teach them a lesson, that if it wasn’t for Him, we would be the same as the  
humans. We were stripped of our powers and for the most part, our memory.”

“Then how do you remember all this?” Castiel question, his head starting to spin.

“The same way you will in the times to come,” he replied, “As we came of age, do you remember how we would spend more and more time with Father?”

“Yes…I thought you were finally getting along…”

“He was opening our minds to our true pasts, Castiel. We would have become closer had we not been ashamed. Zachariah and I had…we were not the only ones to disobey, but He told us the archangels and their punishment would be separate from ours. But we were ashamed of ourselves and therefore pulled away from Him.”

“Disobeyed? We disobeyed the Lord? A-and the man who adopted us…that was…” His blue eyes widened as more and more began to sink into his mind.

“That man was the Heavenly Father, showing Himself in a form we could see in our…mortal…states. But Castiel, you must understand. Not all the angels disobeyed, but they were all punished for those who did. You, little brother, you did not. I remember you constantly up my ass about my disobedience, and how you would have to tell Father of my transgressions. You always expected Him to return – any day now, you would say. Balthazar tried to-”

“Balthazar? Did he disobey?”

“No, but…a year ago, he regained his memory…and he didn’t like what he remembered. He has since turned away from God. But you, Castiel, you can restore us.”

“Restore you?” he repeated, wondering if his mind would ever stop reeling.

“Because you committed no wrong, you can regain your Heavenly power. You can return to Heaven and take us all with you. Castiel, you are our salvation,” he finished, leaning back in his chair. Somewhere during his explanation, the man had sat down but that was an unnoticed detail in the back of the younger male’s mind.

He sat there, in silence, as he tried to absorb and organize this information. So he was an angel – a fallen angel, he supposed it could be termed. They all were. And he had apparently been a good one because now he was the one who could return them all to Heaven.

“…then what was the glowing thing back there?” Dean asked, taking this surprisingly well.

“That was a signal.”

“…for?”

“Whatever you two did, it awakened the angel inside him.” Finally Dean glanced over at him. Their eyes locked and Uriel seemed to understand there was something there; it was in its earlier stages, but this newcomer would be the one to unlock his younger brother’s true self.

“So what the hell am I supposed to do?” If the angel inside him was awake and all, then there should be no point in him sticking around.

“He still has to gain his powers fully and tame them, which can only happen if he has increased contact with you. So…Dean, was it? You two get to spend more ‘quality time’ with each other until the process is complete.” At that, the hunter frowned.

“No, I can’t…I have to meet up with my dad in a few days. I can’t play babysitter,” he responded. Castiel looked to him, hurt etched into his features. Babysitting? He had taken him out to dinner and with the way they were kissing, he was sure they would’ve gone somewhere else. How could he call that babysitting?

“I’m sorry, but you’re not going anywhere.”

“The hell I’m not,” he challenged, rising to his feet and heading towards the front door. Uriel called after him, trying to coerce the man to return, to think about what he was doing. But Dean ignored him, knowing it was better to stay out of that mess than to let himself get dragged into it any further. Castiel sat there, watching him leave, and wondered what on earth was going on. But as soon as he saw his friend take a step out of sight, behind the open door, he suddenly felt as though something very wrong was happening.

“Dean!” Hearing his name prompted the hunter to take a few steps back into the house. Castiel gave him a pleading look, silently asking him to stay, asking him to do anything but walk away.

“I’ll stay until my dad calls, alright? After that, I’m leaving,” he consoled, though his tone was far from any sort of soothing emotion.

“We’ll take what we can get, then,” Uriel responded.

“I’m never gonna come back, either.”

“That’s fine,” the teenager piped, “As long as you’re there to help me…thank you.” Dean looked back at him once more, something unknown crossing across his face, before moving forward and closing the door behind him. Though Castiel wasn’t looking, his older brother was all but beaming. This was going to be interesting, and he had better call Zachariah and tell him to come home so he could be part of this as well.

*

“Hey, Castiel? Susan’s gotta go visit her grandma this weekend, so I was thinking maybe the two of us could hang out. Maybe you could sleep over and we could play some-”

“Sorry, Jesse,” the brunette apologized, “But I’ve already got plans. Maybe next time?” Jesse frowned at this. His friend never had anything to do except go home or maybe help out with that one diner…

“Yeah, sure.” He murmured this with an unconvincing smile, wondering what was bothering the boy. Was Castiel mad at him for something?

But when he saw him walking towards a sleek, black car and a cool-looking guy leaned against it, everything seemed to click. Castiel Gassagen had gotten himself a boyfriend – and by the looks of it, if Jesse was ever one to judge, a good one too. And the smile his friend bore was certainly a good indicator as well.

“Hello Dean,” the angel greeted, trying to diminish his smile to a more polite one. The man gave a nod of recognition, glancing around at the rest of the high school kids.

“Hey,” he replied, “Has that Brad kid been following you all day?” Castiel was about to spin around to see him, but instead was pulled closer to Dean.

“Don’t make it obvious, he’s trying to stay hidden. He probably wants to see if we lied to him or something.” The brunette frowned, though he enjoyed being so close to Dean. He could lay his head against his chest if he wanted, and listen to the man’s heartbeat. He didn’t, of course, because that would be strange.

“So what should we-” Lips interrupted him, pressing themselves against his own. Arms hooked around his waist, keeping him close as the more experience mouth worked against his – that is, until he began to kiss back and they found a sort of harmony. He reached his hands up and circled his arms around Dean’s neck, trying to appear as romantic as possible. They stood there for a moment, though it felt like an eternity to the younger male, until Dean pulled away with a charming smile.

“Let’s get you home,” he murmured. He released the boy after giving him another quick kiss, watching as he went around the car to the passenger seat. Castiel tried to assure himself that it was an act, that kiss and those actions were just to impress Brad, and that Dean had no romantic feelings toward him.

At least, not after finding out about Castiel being an angel. Even the boy himself would have walked away from that can of worms, so he couldn’t blame him.

They got into the car, the teenager finally getting the chance to look over at Russell. The other teen was already heading in the direction of his usual spot, where Balthazar would likely be as he always bought his weekly ration of pot on Fridays. But he was glad that his brother still stuck around as opposed to running away like Zachariah, even though he had turned from God and did drugs as some sort of escape.

“…so, how was your day?” The hunter wouldn’t dare ask about any of the “angel crap,” but remaining silent was simply not in his repertoire. Glad to break the silence, the younger male started to talk about this terrible teacher and that annoying student until he was nearly rattling on about every detail of his day. Dean generally found this sort of thing annoying, but it was a choice between the chatterbox, or the deafening silence. And, though it was hard to believe, he kind of enjoyed Castiel’s voice yammering on and on in the back of his mind. He simply nodded, as if he was taking in his companion’s words.

“Oh,” he interrupted as a thought struck him, “Listen, I figured if I’m gonna stick around for a little longer, I might as well know your number.” The irrelevancy didn’t seem to bother the teen as he whipped out his phone – a surprisingly old model for someone of the younger generation.

“You’re driving, so just tell me where yours is and I’ll put the number in.” Castiel informed, assuming responsibility for their safety. Dean reached over, opened the glove box, and rummaged around until he felt the right phone against his fingers. He pulled it out and tossed it into the teenager’s lap before closing the glove box. Said teen tried not to notice the three or four cell phones that he had caught a glimpse of.

“I don’t have unlimited texting, so only do that in emergencies, okay? Just call me when you need me.”

“I don’t do texting, so calls are it. And I think you’d need me more than I’d need you,” he retorted, his expression one of skepticism despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at hi s companion.

“Why would I need you? I thought you were sticking by my side this whole time.”

“Oh, so I’m gonna eat dinner with you, tuck you into bed…or you’d want me in the bed with you, huh?” He said that, probably trying to be cute. But all Castiel could think of was Balthazar coming into the room while he was “in midflight,” not knowing Dean was there…

“No!” he snapped.

“Calm down,” Dean grumbled, “I was just kidding, geez.” The teen thought about apologizing, but knew it would only raise questions, and he was far from ready to talk about his brother’s incestuous tendencies. It was even worse that they were both angels and he really was his sibling rather than the foster-brothers he had been led to believe.

So, resisting that growing urge to pry, the man drove him home in silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he managed to catch some typing into his phone as well as the sound of pictures being taken, but other than that the drive was uneventful.

“Here we are,” he announced, hoping this would be the night he finally got to go to the bar and attempt to get laid. Castiel stayed in his seat, playing with the arm of his backpack.

“Yeah…so, I guess…I’ll call you tomorrow or something?” he looked to him, now completely unsure of what he was supposed to do. Dean shrugged, equally unsure. The angel almost moved to give the man a kiss, but reminded himself that their affection was short-lived and he shouldn’t encourage himself.

“Not too early,” he added, “If I’ve got any luck, I’ll be busy tonight.” He didn’t need to explain; he was a grown man who was tied down to no one, so it was understandable if he wanted to hook up with someone. Despite knowing this, Castiel still felt a twinge of jealousy. It wasn’t enough to make him speak up, but the fact that it was there unsettled the younger male. If this kept up, he was going to get hurt sooner or later.

“Alright, see you la-”

“Hello, you two!” a stranger piped. Dean looked out his rolled-down window to see a balding young man approach them.

“Who-”

“Zachariah,” Castiel answered unhappily, “He’s my eldest brother. Dean, I am so-”

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything, but why don’t you two come inside. Uriel’s cooking up some steaks and we’ve even got Balthazar tossing a mean salad. It’d be a shame if you missed it,” he chirped, already opening the man’s door for him. Castiel quickly stepped out, paced to the other side of the car, and placed a hand on his brother’s arm.

“Actually, brother, he already has plans for the evening. I was thinking he could come over for lunch tomorrow instead,” he offered, supplying a reasonable excuse as well as an alternate solution. Zachariah liked thought-out plans and it certainly seemed like one.

“Nonsense, he’d love to come for dinner! Wouldn’t you…ah, what is it again?” The teenager sighed, sure in the fact that he wasn’t going to like whatever happened next. Instead, his friend got out of the car and after shutting and locking the doors, followed them up the walkway with a calm expression.

“It’s Dean,” he answered, “And those had better be good steaks.”

Whoever said the way to a man’s heart was his stomach had obviously had a run-in with this man.

*

“Anna, pass the dressing,” Uriel murmured, focusing on Dean’s story.

“So there I was, two in the morning, and not sure if I was eating a chicken or turkey sandwich…and then I heard the sound of a chicken coming from the back of the restaurant, and I was done,” he bore a pseudo-serious expression at this, “I haven’t been able to eat chicken since then.” The family laughed at that in a myriad of giggles and chuckles.

“Oh, what a shame,” Balthazar grinned, “I should have made chicken salad instead.” Dean gave a half-hearted sort of laugh, not sure if the man was joking or not. But Castiel knew, and sent his sibling a warning glare. Rather than heeding his silent warning, the older brother winked and blew him a kiss. No one seemed to notice, or they at least acted like they didn’t and the brunette was grateful for that.

“So, Dean,” Zachariah spoke up, “what do you do for a living?”

“Oh, well it’s…I’m between jobs right now,” he replied, not looking up from his plate as he cut his steak into bite-sized pieces.

“Guess that’s convenient for us, huh? More time for you to spend with Castiel,” he commented with his ever-present smile. Dean tried to ignore the sickening feeling he was getting from it and chewed on a bite of his steak.

“So, Zachariah, how has work been?” Castiel asked, trying to shift the attention away from his companion so he might get some food in his stomach.

“It’s great; I quit it just before I came home.”

“You what?”

“What’s the point in working that crap job if you’re gonna save us from being hairless apes?” he laughed, looking overjoyed that he would finally return to Heaven. Anna frowned, confused. No one had bothered to include her in the loop, so she was sure that Zachariah was jumping off the deep end.

“I suppose…that makes sense…” Castiel turned his attention to the last of his mashed potatoes as well as the remaining half of his steak. He had eaten his salad first, which had pleased Balthazar to some extent, but his appetite was dying with every second. Still, given the option of continuing conversation and shoveling the food into his mouth, he forked what he hoped was a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Dean watched this, trying his hardest not to snort in amusement.

“So, have you two done the deed yet?” he asked, his overt curiosity disturbing several of the others.

“The deed?”

“You mean…me becoming an angel?” the teenager hoped.

“No! You guys know what I mean, right?” he winked, still expecting an answer. A blush dusted Castiel’s cheeks while the older man fought to swallow the piece of meat that had lodged itself in his throat.

“Zachariah, that was rude,” Balthazar surprisingly commented, “I’m sure he’s fucked Cas plenty of times but that doesn’t mean we should ask.” His words sent a wave of silence rolling throughout the room, save for his own forced laughter. He looked to Dean, giving him a feigned look of kindness.

“I see I have crossed a line. Well I wasn’t that hungry anyway.” The Brit rose to his feet, giving the table a curt bow before turning and heading back into the hall. They listened to him go up the stairs, no one really sure what issue to address.

“Actually, we haven’t…”

“No, he was right. We shouldn’t ask,” Uriel interrupted, sending a look to Zachariah. Castiel was looking at his plate, pushing his food around.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean asked, leaning a bit closer to him.

“Fine,” he lied.

“Do you…want to go talk to him or something? I can hold out here, I guess…”

“No,” Castiel answered quickly, “He’ll be fine.” He would normally love to go and comfort his brother, but he knew what would happen if he went upstairs. It scared him more than he would ever care to admit, so he would stay away for as long as he could in hopes that the older sibling would be asleep when he eventually went to bed.

“But if you two do need to have sex, we’ve got a guest room and I’m sure someone could run down to the store and grab some condoms or-”

“That’s it,” the hunter dropped his silverware back onto the plate. He got up and m his way to the front door. This family, angels or not, was insane. Castiel gave his sibling a disapproving look before he followed Dean out onto the porch.

“Wait, don’t…don’t go?” It was a question because he knew he could never make the man do anything, especially not after that disastrous dinner. The older male sighed, but sat down on the steps. The teenager joined him, blue hues glancing over at the man. But his gaze was never returned so he simply looked towards the Impala he was becoming familiar with.

“I’m really sorry about them,” he murmured, watching as his breath came out in a short-lived cloud. He could hardly feel the chill of October, but an arm suddenly draped itself across his shoulders and tugged him a little closer.

“Yeah, I would be too.” He wasn’t looking at Castiel, but he bore a jovial smile that allowed the teenager to melt against him.

“Do you think…if it wasn’t for the whole angel thing…we might have gone somewhere?” he asked, closing his eyes as he tried to lose himself in the man’s embrace. Dean glanced at him, then chose to stare up at the stars instead. That was a bonus of bouncing from small town to small town. The stars were always out and even though he hardly ever looked up, it was nice to know he got the view of a lifetime.

“Definitely,” he admitted, “I was probably gonna try and take you back to my room that night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’d never done it with a guy before, so it probably wouldn’t have been too great, though.” Castiel chuckled, now looking up at his friend.

“I probably would have chickened out in the end, especially if you told me that.”

“Oh really?” Now, the hunter was returning the gaze. They were smiling at each other, beginning to enjoy each other’s company.

“Of course,” he teased, “I’d want someone experienced, not some wide-eyed virgin.”

“Virgin? Cas, I’m not a-”

“You’ve never had sex with another man,” he reminded.

“Yeah, but-”

“Than you’re at least half a virgin. Maybe a homo-virgin or something like that,” he commented, smiling as he settled back against the man. Dean seemed to remember that his arm was around him and pulled him just a bit closer.

“…guess I’m gonna stay that way, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m pretty sure angels aren’t known for being sex-crazed,” the brunette remarked, his face now skeptical. Castiel pulled away a bit, letting that sink in. That was true. So he was never going to have sex; then again, he was going to be an angel. Such a novel existence would whelm him enough that he wouldn’t be tempted by sins of the flesh.

“You might find someone else you’d like to mess around with,” he suggested.

“Sure I will, but they won’t be a guy. I really don’t know what happened with you, but…” he trailed off and looked back up to the stars, still not understanding what it was that made him turn and kiss the teen. But whatever it was, it wanted him to do it again. When he glanced over at the angel, those blue eyes only seemed to make the urge worse. He had meant to look away, but now his attention was glued to the younger male.

“Guess I screwed everything up, huh?” Castiel breathed with a slight smile. The hunter leaned in closer until they were sharing each other’s breath.

“Yes,” he agreed before kissing him. It took no time at all for the brunette to respond, sliding his hands up Dean’s chest and wrapping them around his neck. His head was already angled for a better kiss but the man wanted more; he licked along the teenager’s lower lip, expecting him to open his mouth. He did so, and the older tongue slipped past his lips to explore and conquer the orifice.

Castiel moaned lightly, enjoying the sensation of his mouth being claimed by his companion. His body arched closer to him, urging him on. Hands slipped down to his lower back, under his shirt, and sated themselves by sliding up along his spine. The angel sounded another moan, his own hand moving up to grip at cropped hair. He didn’t care that the neighbors could see, didn’t process that his family could be peeking out the windows. In that moment, all he could sense was this man: his scent, his burning hands teasing at his skin, his taste…

And suddenly memories came flooding into his mind. He could seas appearing before his eyes, the sun and moon forming in the sky, trees growing at an accelerated rate, a rose budding within seconds, remembered a fish crawling out of the ocean and a voice telling him:

“Don’t step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish.”

He gasped and jerked away from Dean, his mind reeling from the intake. He couldn’t catch his breath, not after such a rush, and was panting against the man’s chest. Green hues watched him, concerned but mostly confused.

“What…did you…”

“The beginning,” he muttered, “I saw the beginning. Dean, I saw the creation of the Earth. I heard a voice...”

“Was it…was it the big guy?”

“No. I don’t know how I know, but…it was one of my brothers. I saw a fish come out of the water…it had arms and legs...Dean, the world was…it was so beautiful. Those stars use to gleam all the brighter, the grass all the greener, the air all the cleaner…”

“What, are you some eco-freak now?” he grumbled, not enjoying the turn this conversation had taken; in all honesty, he had rather continued kissing then start talking about how “pretty” the Earth had been. But judging from the slight agitation that formed across Castiel’s features, that was not something he should have said.

“You don’t understand, Dean. What humans have done to this planet…a creation that has done nothing but given, all you humans do is take.”

“You humans? Cas, you’re not an angel yet. You’re part of the human race still,” he reminded, ignoring the accusing tone of the teenager. That seemed to ground him, as Dean could see Castiel’s feathers unruffled.

“Then…it’s my fault too.” He regretted his words though when he saw the abject sadness that washed over his companion’s face. The hunter put his arm back around him, rubbing his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting fashion. It was working, apparently, because the teenager leaned his head on the man’s shoulder as he enjoyed being consoled.

It didn’t lessen his guilt any, though. He had helped in destroying the planet – perhaps it wasn’t quite the apocalypse, but he still felt like some sort of destroyer.

“So beautiful…it was so beautiful, Dean,” he whispered, closing his eyes and leaning a bit closer into him. Dean gave the angel’s shoulders a quick squeeze, wishing there was some way he could better appease the teen…

*

Castiel was woken suddenly by the vibrating of his phone. He checked the time: four thirty AM. Who in their right mind would call him that early on a Saturday morning?

Yet, once he checked who it was, it made a little more sense. The accompanying picture was of Dean’s profile, his expression serious as he had been focused on the road. Despite his exhaustion, the angel flipped open the phone and answered the call.

“Yes?” he whispered while he laid back on his bed.

“I’m in front of your house. Put some shoes on and get out here. You’ve got five minutes.” With that, the man hung up. Castiel wasn’t sure what was going on, but for some reason he decided he was going to trust Dean. He quickly threw on a mocha colored sweater that may or may not have belonged to Balthazar and what he hoped to be a clean pair of jeans before creeping out of his room.

No one in his family was a light sleeper, but Uriel was known to wake up several times in the night to check for burglars. Much to his luck, the teenager snuck down the stairs without a hitch and silently dashed to the front door. He put his shoes on hurriedly, hoping everyone remained asleep before he opened the door. It creaked here and there but he heard no responsive stirring in the house. Castiel stepped out and shut the door behind him, careful not to slam it.

He would never admit this to Dean, but this was his first time sneaking out of the house.

“Hey, come on,” the older male called from the car. He watched as Castiel scurried down the walkway, not even bothering to hide his excitement. The teen slipped into his usual seat, buckling up without noticing the green hues still watching him. 

His sweater seemed a little too big, perhaps a hand-me-down, and the neck of it was so low that he was sure there was no shirt underneath. His stance was relaxed: legs spread, hands tugging at the cuffs of the sweater, and his head tilted slightly as he stared back…

“Dean?” he questioned, starting to feel uncomfortable under the man’s scrutiny. He seemed to snap out of it and started driving.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, “And there’s some breakfast in the backseat.” Castiel reached back and grabbed the bag, enjoying the warm feel of it in his hands. He settled back into his seat before rummaging through it. Hash browns, some breakfast sandwiches…

“Really?” The teenager pulled out an apple pie stick.

“Hey, it’s pie on the go,” Dean defended while snatching the food from his hand. Castiel smiled and took it back.

“It’s not even open, and you’re driving,” he supplied as he tore open the packaging, “There, now you can eat your apple pie without endangering our lives.” It was again taken from him, though the action was slower and he swore fingers lingered against his own before they brought the food to Dean’s mouth. While he drove, the brunette munched on some of the hash browns, allowing their warmth to soothe his remaining exhaustion and developing hunger.

The drive was more or less peaceful, save for the occasional request for more food from the hunter. Of course, Castiel would grant this happily, even daring to feed his companion a  
bite-sized hash brown or two.

“Here we are,” Dean spoke around his latest mouthful of sandwich, putting the Impala into park. The angel sat up a bit, looking around at the field surrounding them.

“Where’s here?”

“You’ll see,” the man answered as he climbed out of the car. Castiel watched him curiously, as he walked around to the popped trunk of the car. He pulled out a blanket, walking back to the front of the car, and laid it out on the Impala’s hood. Once the fabric was stretched out to his approval, he turned his focus back to the teenager.

“You coming?” The brunette snatched the bag of food before scrambling out to meet him.

“What is this?”

“You’ll see,” Dean repeated, getting on the blanket and stretching his legs out towards the headlights. His friend got up next to him, trying to find what they were looking for. But all he could see was the field that seemed to stretch on forever. When he glanced at Dean, the man was checking the time.

“Is someone else coming?”

“Just wait, Cas. Trust me.” He put his hand over the younger one, a smile spread across his lips. Though he wanted to know, Castiel simply moved closer to him until they were hip to hip and kept his questions in his mind. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, though it quickly slid down to grasp at his waist. In return, his hand moved to rest on the older male’s thigh, enjoying the relaxed proximity. Perhaps this was all Dean was trying to achieve?

“Here it is,” he murmured. Blue eyes shot open, suddenly expecting something bright and extravagant. Instead, the sun was just barely beginning to peek over the horizon. But the effect it had…

The rays of sun stretched across the field, catching the dew-covered grass in just the right way so that it sparkled and shone. Castiel was sitting up straight, taken away by the sight. It was so much like what he had seen: the seas tumbling for the first time, the first rose budding on a rosebush.

“Humans may have done a shit load of wrong, but at least there’s still some good. That counts for something, right?” Dean commented, assuming his companion’s reaction was a positive one. What he didn’t expect was the look the teen bore when he turned around. 

His eyes were glossed over and his expression was of something the hunter hadn’t seen in a long time. He could vaguely recall his mother showing him something similar when she would tuck him in, but that was the extent of it.

“It counts, Dean,” he assured, “It counts for so much.” The angel flew at him, wrapping his arms around the man and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Unused to being hugged, it took a moment for the brunette to responsively hold Castiel to him.

“Good…that’s good,” he muttered as he felt the other male collect himself. Instead of allowing that, he pushed him away enough that he could look into those deep blue eyes. Neither man said anything as Dean hooked a finger under the teenager’s chin. His thumb rubbed along his jaw for a second, taking in the sight of this kid before he pulled him closer. Their lips met softly, similar to what one would see in the movies.

Castiel was finding it harder and harder to not fall in love with Dean, if he hadn’t fallen already.

*

The teenager got out of the car a few hours later, glad no one had called the police while he was gone. He moved around the car and was about to start up his walkway when the older male made a sound to catch his attention.

“Yes?” he asked as he spun around, his blue eyes meeting green hues. Dean’s head jerked slightly, motioning for the younger male to return to the car. The brunette strolled over, expecting a parting word or two. Instead, he was tugged down so their lips could meet once more. He leaned on the car door while he enjoyed the taste of the man, even going so far as to allow him passage into his mouth. The other’s tongue rubbed against his own, creating a hot friction. If it had lasted any more than a few seconds, Castiel doubted he would have been able to pull away. But he did, though he remained close to his companion.

“Call if you need me,” Dean murmured.

“And what if I don’t?” he questioned, wanting some sort of sweet answer. The hunter rolled his eyes as he fought back a smile.

“Call anyway.” He revved his engine, a sign for the teen to take a few steps back. He did so and watched his companion drive away and out of sight. He had hardly noticed the smile on his face and likely wouldn’t have noticed; that is, if Zachariah hadn’t greeted him with that shit-eating grin he always chose to wear.

“Oh, so somebody got laid?” he guessed. Castiel’s smile faded to a frown, if not a pout.

“No, I didn’t. And I don’t understand why you are so determined for it to happen, brother.” He stepped out of his shoes, not bothering to look back to his sibling.

“You don’t?” the older male repeated in surprise, “Oh….So Uriel never explained it to you, did he?” At the vague and mysterious words, the brunette did look up and saw that Zachariah was smirking at him and beckoning him to come over and sit in the living room. With limited options, Castiel decided it would be best to just do what was asked of him and sit down.

“So, what did Uriel tell you?”

“…that the glowing thing was me announcing I was an angel and that I needed to stay close to Dean if I wanted to regain my strength as an angel…something like that, anyway,” he replied. The older brother patted his leg, his smile almost becoming apologetic.

“But he never told you what that meant, huh? It’s okay, Castiel; I’m here to help you. See, when Uriel said that you needed to stay close, what he really meant was that you need to get as close to that guy as possible. As in, you need to have sex with him. You know all that ‘becoming one with your partner’ hullabaloo? Well, it’s more or less true, I’m afraid. So to get your pretty angel powers, you’ve got to let the guy have sex with you a couple times. Twice, maybe thrice, and you’re done! Bam, instant angel! Ah, at least I think so. None of us have ever gone from human to angel, so it’s a new frontier you could say. Actually, what do you say?”

“I…I…” The brunette had no words. Zachariah had a tendency to speak quickly, uncaring of the effects his words held on others.

“You’re speechless? Ah, you would be, wouldn’t you? Now you’ve got an excuse to bend over for that guy!” he said this, honestly believing he was saying exactly the right thing. Yet, it only embarrassed and angered the younger male moreso. Of course he found Dean attractive and of course he wouldn’t mind having sex with him, but that would be an eventual thing. To suggest it so quickly, it seemed less than what it would be. Not only would it be Castiel’s first time, but it would start to restore his angelic powers.

Surely that deserved a little more romance than to be a “necessity.”

Firmly believing in this, he stood to his feet.

“I won’t,” he spoke, “I don’t think that’s how I should approach it. If…sex really brings my powers back, then it shouldn’t just be something to get over with, right? It should be special. It should feel important.” He thought that sounded strong and agreeable, but Zachariah only laughed.

“You really think you’re so special? You’re just Castiel, the angel of Thursday! You’re so minor in the chain it’s a miracle you even get noticed around here. It was just by some coincidence that you’re our last shot. It’s just because you were too weak to go against God, that’s all. You’re not a special snowflake, Castiel. Now go and get fucked so we can all go home.” The younger angel’s fists were clenched tight, even shaking a bit. He turned on his heel and stormed to the door to leave, though not before pausing.

“I hope I die a virgin,” he hissed, “And I hope you never see Heaven again, you pompous human.” He knew the words were harsh, knew he should take them back, but he simply couldn’t manage it – not in his state.

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re human too!”

“And I’m closer to an angel then you’ll ever be.” With that, he walked out and slammed the door behind him. He took a breath of the slightly warmer October air and heaved a sigh. In his tantrum, he had forgotten to get his shoes. So he sat down on his front steps, fishing out his phone. He thought about calling Jesse – almost dialed the number too – but something told him he should call someone else. So he pressed their number instead, remaining silent until he heard them pick up.

“Dean,” he murmured, “I need you.”

“…got it. Just give me a couple minutes, kid.” He hung up, finding himself to be worried over the teenager’s distraught tone. Castiel glanced back towards the house, surprised to see Zachariah at the window. He was grinning and even dared to give his younger sibling a thumbs-up. The brunette turned away, deciding he would not look back. Even when the Impala pulled up to the house, he trudged down the walkway in his socks with his blue hues focused only on Dean. The man got out of the car, actually, and went around his car to the teenager.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’ll tell you when we get back to your motel room,” he answered, trying to keep the focus on him rather than the house and its peeping tom.

“Whoa, my what? Dude, we’re not-”

“Please, Dean.” That was all it took, that and his pleading eyes that assured him something was bothering the angel. He stepped back and opened the passenger door for him, watching Castiel slide into the seat. The teen looked only forward, didn’t glance in the direction of his home.

“Alright,” he murmured before getting back into his own seat. Nothing would happen at the room, he assured himself. Not sex, at least – he was surprisingly willing to try out some more things with this curious brunette as long as it didn’t cross that line.

They drove home in silence, though Castiel’s body spoke volumes. Out of his periphery, Dean could see him wringing his hands, his eyes darting to the window then to the driver and finally settling on his knees, which were kept together instead of the lax position they were normally in. As he absorbed all these observations, the hunter realized just how much he had been paying attention to the teenager. That wasn’t normal for him, was it?

“Maybe there’s something good on the radio,” he murmured, eager to distract himself. He switched on the radio with the smooth, yet horrific, voice of David Bowie. He changed the station again, but some song by what sounded like Coldplay came on. He groaned as he was about to resort to his cassettes and their classic rock, but he caught sight of Castiel tapping out the beat on his thigh. He looked over to the teenager more fully; blue eyes were staring out the window, but his posture had gone somewhat lax.

Although Dean didn’t particularly like this band, he forced his hand back to the steering wheel and allowed the song play out. It was only one song, after all – and it seemed to calm the angel down from whatever mood he had been in.

*

“So this Eric guy…he likes Nicole, but so does Lucas? Why can’t Nicole just tell him to back off?” Castiel asked before trying to take a bite from his taco. The older man had gotten them from Taco Station as a sort of lunch, which the brunette had appreciated. So now they sat at a small table in Dean’s motel room, munching on hard-shell tacos while watching crappy television. Currently playing was an old episode of Days of our Lives, and the pair found it strangely interesting.

“She can’t even tell that he likes her …and can’t you see that Eric’s kind of overly possessive? There’s no way they’re gonna last,” Dean explained around a mouthful of food, “Seriously, he’s a douchebag…I mean look at him. He’s wearing make up!”

“It brings out his eyes,” Castiel pouted, watching as Eric sent Lucas the most passively threatening look he’d seen all episode. That made the hunter snort as a sort of laughter. He balled his taco wrapper up and tossed it in the trash, finally having finished all his lunch – three tacos wasn’t as filling as he had imagined them to be, though. Still, it was good.

“Whatever, dude. He’s still gonna lose Nicole,” he grumbled, turning to watch his companion. Castiel was almost done with his second one, having been careful not to drop any of the insides.

“…he kind of looks like you, Dean,” the angel noted with mild interest.

“No he doesn’t,” the man argued, “Too blond. And his nose is…weird or something…” Even to him, his reasoning sounded terrible. But that suddenly lost precedence when he saw that the younger male had dropped a bit of ground beef. He watched the teenager pout and hastily finished the last of his taco. It was an amusing sight that brought a small smile to his face; that is, until the brunette went after the misplaced taco ingredient. Dean couldn’t help but notice – though he wish he didn’t – the way Castiel's tongue struck out at the paper, when it scooped up the meat slowly to be sure to capture it all, and how he licked his lips afterwards...

Fuck.

“Well, I’m gonna shower,” Dean announced as he rose from the small table and started towards the bathroom. At least he had already finished his own few tacos. Otherwise he would have to sacrifice his food to stop, or care for, his forming erection - which was uncharacteristically excited from watching another man eat.

“You haven’t done it already?” his companion questioned, not sure how he felt about a wet, naked man who had lips like a – no, he knew exactly how he felt about it; he wasn’t sure if he could hide that from the older male, though.

“I had to go pick you up, remember?” He didn’t look back as he said that, and before Castiel could say anything more, the man disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door. Blue eyes watched the shut door for a few seconds. His mind ran through the images of Dean showering, washing his hair down to his toes, and he ultimately found a light blush across his cheeks as well as an accompanying ache in his groin. To distract himself, the angel turned his attention to the television, found the remote, and began to surf the channels for something that strayed far from the thought of a certain naked man.

The Discovery Channel served as an excellent distraction for the next twenty minutes; however, when the door of the bathroom swung back open, nothing could tear his gaze from Dean. He emerged, still damp from his shower, with only a towel around his waist and made his way towards the dresser by the bed. Castiel knew he should have been more discreet, but the sight was proving too much for him. The man seemed to sense that he was being watched and green hues turned to meet azure.

“…Cas? You okay?” he questioned; not many people looked at him like that, but nearly every time they did, he got laid.

“No,” the teen breathed, willing away his growing lust. Rather than being effective, it only spurred him out of his chair and over towards the man. Dean took a step back, knowing the angel was technically underage and that it was probably the worst kind of sin if he had sex with an angel anyway.

“You...you should put some clothes on,” Castiel murmured as his eyes drank in the man’s body at a close range.

“That’s…why I came out here, actually,” he replied, mildly startled when he found that his urge to dip down and kiss the boy was proving to be impossible to ignore. Yet, before he could do so, hands reached for his head and pulled him down for an impassioned kiss. As soon as their lips met, their desires sprang to the surface. Dean wrapped his arms around the angel’s waist, dampening his shirt as his hands slid up his back, then down to grope at his rear. The teen moaned in response, parting his lips enough for the hunter to dart his tongue into the younger mouth and have it grind against the similar muscle.

Meanwhile, Castiel was moving his arms around the man’s neck enough that he could hoist himself up the man’s body and wrapped his legs around his waist, his hips grinding against the hardening cock beneath the towel’s fabric. Dean groaned into his mouth before turning to face the bed. He tore his lips away from the teenager.

“Off,” he practically growled.

“But I-”

“The bed, Cas.” Blue eyes looked him over once more, then the younger male removed himself from his companion and scurried back to the bed. He stood on his knees, fumbling with the button of his jeans until he could finally pry the denim off his legs, which he laid down to do. His underwear would have been next, had Dean not interrupted. The man slid a hand up the now bare leg, dipping down every now and then to kiss and bite at the skin.

“D-Dean,” Castiel murmured as his hips shifted a bit for attention. Green eyes saw the now blatant erection that strained against his underwear and, almost curiously, his hand continued up the leg to finally press against the burning groin. The angel gasped and tried to rub against the warm palm moreso. This interested the hunter and his hand began to stroke him as he tugged the towel from around his waist. Castiel’s eyes widened at the obviously larger erection, but said nothing past his light panting.

“What do we do?” Dean asked as his hand switched jobs to pull the underwear down the brunette’s legs and toss them aside. He settled himself between the angel’s legs, the tip of his cock pressed to the base of his partner’s.

“W-we don’t…I mean, you have to get me ready,” Castiel breathed, finding the slight contact to be a terrible tease. His companion seemed to realize this and ground his hips upward, creating a sweet friction that sent both of them moaning for more.

“Oh God,” the teenager groaned, tilting his head back on the pillow. As he moved against the younger body, Dean smirked.

“Nope,” he muttered, “Just me.” Legs wrapped around his waist once more, trying to guide him into a faster pace as accompanying hands rubbed at his still damp chest. As the pace reached a steady thrusting, Castiel slid his arms around to grip the man’s back desperately.  
They weren’t even having sex, but the pleasure was still something to send his mind flying. He was going to open his mouth to speak, but Dean crashed his lips against the younger pair. Their mouths worked against each other, sucking and biting, while one of the angel’s hands moved down. He gripped both of their erections mid-grind and held them together, being thrilled by the feel of Dean thrusting against both his palm and his cock.

At this rate, not having been used to this sort of pleasure, Castiel wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. His body was on fire, burning and yearning for the man’s body. In his enraptured passion, he found himself trying to gain entrance to the older mouth, his tongue dancing across his lip. Without hesitation, the older brunette parted his lips. For some reason, the taste of the angel was irresistible and the feel of that hot tongue against his set his lust boiling.

As their tongues mimicked their hips – or perhaps it was the other way around – Castiel could feel himself climbing closer and closer to his release until, he could no longer bear it. His lips tore from Dean’s while a desperate moan erupted from his esophagus. As the hunter watched his lover come, he was left with the aching reminder that he himself was far from finished. But Castiel was young, so an earlier orgasm was forgivable. He pulled away, wondering what he would do with himself.

“Ah…my sweater,” Castiel mumbled, pouting. It was wet from both the water and his own semen – decidedly ruined. He would have to get a new shirt before he went home, or at least borrow one from Dean. Yet, when he turned to ask the man, he saw that he had been the only one to reach that euphoria.

“Oh,” he said, “I’m sorry, I’ll…I’ll take care of it, if you want.” His words were quiet, almost nervous. Of course, now that his fervor and passion had died down, the sudden courage and adrenaline were gone with it. But Dean wasn’t one to deny himself what he wanted; no, he was exactly that person, but it wouldn’t hurt this one time. He lay down on the bed, propping himself  
up on his elbows.

“You sure? I can deal with it myself,” he offered though it was more to be polite than an actual offer. Castiel crawled over to between the man’s legs. His lips pressed a few lingering kisses against the older thigh until his blue eyes locked with the stiff member.

“…I’ll do it,” he murmured, his breath hot on Dean’s shaft. Rather than teasing him further, the teenager pressed a kiss to the tip of his lover’s cock. He then licked around the head before taking the tip into his mouth, allowing his lips to sink lower and lower until he felt his gag reflex give out a warning. He wasn’t sure what to do at that point, there was at least four inches left to swallow.

“Hey…if you can’t, uh…you can use your hand for the rest,” the hunter murmured, having watched the expression of mild panic cross the younger face. The other hand wrapped its digits around the remaining length and began to pump as best as it could. The angel’s mouth seemed to work in unison, bobbing and sucking the upper half quickly.

“Relax, du- shit.” He had held out the last word while his hand shot down to bury themselves in brunette hair. Castiel had allowed his teeth to graze the underside of the man’s cock, resulting in a sensation the human couldn’t quite place. Without realizing what he was doing, Dean’s hand steadily began to guide the younger man’s head along to a pace that he was sure would get him off. It was obeyed compliantly, its owner wanting him to finish as well. Not before long, hips were gently grinding his erection into the opened mouth in an effort to speed up the release.

“Almost...” He moaned unabashedly, tilting his head back as he came. His semen filled Castiel’s mouth, overwhelming his ability to swallow so much so that he had to tear himself away for air. Dean muttered a breathless “shit” as he sat up.

“You okay?”

“Fiine,” the angel lied. The back of his throat burned and the unpleasant taste of cum lingered on his tongue, but at least he had shared the pleasure of orgasm with his lover. Yet, somehow, that didn’t seem to make the taste any more bearable. Dean saw the twitch of disgust playing at the corner of the brunette’s lips and managed a strange smile, as if he should have known as much.

“I’ll take you home quick, so you can-”

“No,” he said, “Let me stay.” His blue hues pleaded, begging for something he would never have to beg for.

“Yeah…no problem. Guess I can get you one from the drug store down the street.” He moved away from the teenager, towards the dresser and his clothes. Castiel, now dropped from his lust-ridden high, carefully stripped out of his ruined sweater.

“Can you get me a shirt, too?” he asked innocently, getting up to throw the fabric away. Dean watched him as he strutted across the room, especially his unsurprisingly perky ass as he bent over slightly to drop it into the waste basket. Dipped over, the brunette managed to catch a glimpse of his companion’s watchful gaze.

“Something wrong, Dean?” He stood straight once more, his entire profile in the hunter’s line of sight. It was hard – no, impossible – to explain but the way he simply stood there, unabashed, his eyes curious and his smile mischievous…he looked some sort of beautiful.

“Just trying to figure out your shirt size.” It was a lie, but they had both known what he was doing, so it managed to come across as cute.

“Whatever your size is should be fine,” Castiel replied, heading back towards the bed. The older male caught him in the middle of the room and tugged him close, even pressing a few kisses to the angel in his arms.

“You’ll be swimming in your shirt then.”

“I’d like to be swimming in you.” They were both sure that had meant to be attractive in some form, but all it did was shove a dopey grin across Dean’s lips until he laughed outright.

“You’re something, kid, you know that?”

“Yeah, I figured…It’s not like I’m nothing, after all,” he replied with a smile, one that surprisingly held not an inkling of fear. He suddenly believed this from the depth of his being. They had known each other for all of three days, but he knew that forgetting this man would be impossible; he could never just be a passing fling.

“Definitely not nothing,” Dean agreed before dipping his head down to kiss him again. His feelings for the teen didn’t reach the depth of his counterpart, but there was something there, something he wasn’t quite used to. But he wasn’t sure he liked it.

*

“You sure you’ll be okay?” the hunter asked, eyeing the peaceful house wearily. Castiel nodded and leaned over to peck his lover’s cheek.

“And if I’m not, I can just call you.” Dean turned unexpectedly and took hold of the younger male’s chin; he guided him closer once more, and kissed him. It was a patient press of lips, unhurried as the two perfected what they could. The angel made a quiet sound of approval, especially when his companion slid his hand up to a younger cheek. He could have – would have – kissed Dean for hours if the man hadn’t pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured before sucking on his lower lip; just for a second, just to savor the taste of his lover.

“Someone’s watching us…that one from dinner…Baltha-something or other.”

“Balthazar?” Castiel prayed it wasn’t him. Even Zachariah would be better. If his slightly incestuous older brother had caught him kissing Dean, who knows how he would react…

“Yeah, that guy. He looks kinda off…dude, is he stoned?” The younger of the two hung his head, regret washing over him. Maybe he could stay in Dean’s motel room, maybe he didn’t need to go back inside. No, that would be too much. This was still fun, still distanced – though their “relationship” had been escalated by a much faster rate than average couples – and he couldn’t allow himself to cling too much.

“He probably is,” he admitted, “I’d better go make sure he’s alright.”

“…alright.” For some reason, Dean gave him yet another kiss, though this one was affectionately placed against the teenager’s forehead.

“Bye, Cas.”

“Mm, see you later, Dean,” he returned with a sweet smile. The hunter’s own was smaller, and subtle enough that the younger male almost questioned it. But he didn’t; instead, he chalked it up to the fact that he was an angel with a brother who was stoned as well as another brother that was obsessed with him losing his virginity – and that was only two of them.

In other words, it was hard to find the “proper” reaction to such a situation, and he couldn’t blame the hunter for that.

He climbed out of the car, tossing the man one last smile before shutting the car door. The older man watched him head up along his walkway to his front door, the smile slowly dimming from his face.

“…later,” he said. Once the angel was inside his house and the door was shut, Dean realized he was still staring and heaved a sigh. Sometimes he found himself wondering what was wrong with him, and sometimes he wondered what wasn’t. Instead of bothering with it, he shifted the Impala into gear and drove back to his motel room.

Meanwhile, Castiel was walking further into his house, afraid to announce that he was home. Careful about where he stepped, the angel crept along to where he heard sound. From behind the study door was a whispered conversation – between Uriel and Zachariah, it sounded like. He leaned towards the door in his effort to hear at least some of it.

“…feel different?”

“No….not have had sex…him…”

“He really needs to get the ball rolling or…”

“I know….make him…can we?”

That was decidedly enough. The brunette had the notion they were talking about him and he didn’t want to hear any more, especially not from his brothers. So he snuck away from the door in favor of going upstairs. He had to confront Balthazar sooner or later, and it seemed the choice would be sooner. Without a word or announcing himself, he opened the door to their room.

“Balthazar?”

“Cas, so good you could make it. For a second, I thought you’d run off with your handsome fuck-toy.” His tone was rude, sarcastic – but Castiel had been expecting as much.

“Of course I wouldn’t run off with Dean. My place is with my family,” he replied calmly.

“Even Zachariah?” he sneered.

“Yes, even him, no matter how annoying he can get.”

“…even me?” His gaze softened into something like fear, unsettling his younger sibling. The brunette crossed the room to envelope the Brit in a hug – ignoring the fact that he was high and they were alone in their bedroom. He simply didn’t seem to be afraid anymore, not even of his disquieting brother.

“Especially you, brother.” His words were sickeningly sweet to Balthazar, taunting him in ways they always would. He held the younger male close while his hands slide down to grope the angel’s ass.

“Balthazar, stop this,” he demanded evenly.

“But your place is here, isn’t it? You just said it was, Cas….my cute little brother…” Older  
lips dipped down to press kisses to his neck.

“You know it’s different, Balthazar. And I trust you to make the right decision,” he continued without physical refusal. He simply stood there, calling him on a bluff that didn’t seem to exist. Yet, the elder brother pulled away with a frown.

“Cas, you’re different,” he pouted, “You’ve changed.”

“No, I just know that you won’t do anything I don’t want,” the brunette retorted.

“It’s more than that…Cas, have you had sex with that Dean boy?” Castiel’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but he shook his head. It took a few silent moments and an extended skeptical look from his sibling before he sat on his bed.

He sighed, “Not exactly.”

“And what does that mean?”

“We, uh…we rubbed them together and I…” Rather than saying it, far too shy to admit what he had done, his fingers moved up to his mouth as he remembered how it felt to have Dean’s cock between his lips. The blush across his cheeks darkened just slightly – though it was enough for the other teenager to understand what he was getting at.

“So you sucked him off? Cute.”

“It’s not-” 

Balthazar plopped down beside him as he leaned back some. “I was teasing you, Cas. I brought it up not because I want to hear your sex stories – though I would enjoy those thoroughly in excruciating detail – but because if you came, that could explain it.”

“…explain what?”

“Zachariah didn’t tell you the hot and heavy details, did he?” he paused to sigh, “Oh well, I guess big brother Balthazar gets that joy. To become an angel, you have to lose your humanity. And one of the most human things a being can accomplish is the sweet release of sex…  
“Basically, every time you ejaculate, you’re expelling your human traits to make room for the angel ones. The only real things to go are your emotions, because angels don’t have them. So, since you did your tango with your toy, you must have lost an emotion. My guess…is that it was probably fear. Normally you would be afraid of my advances, but you faced me without hesitation – because you can’t hesitate any more. At least, not out of fear.”

Castiel sat there for several minutes, silent as he absorbed all this new, albeit strange, information in. Then, in a quiet voice, he finally spoke.

“How…do you know this?”

“Because, the Big Guy told me,” he said, his eyes looking over his brother, “When I was regaining my memories, I would have these weird dreams-”

“-and He spoke to you? Told you how to do things, showed you things you’d never seen?”

“I learned the whole Enochian shindig before I…decided I liked being human much more than what life had been up in Heaven. Before teaching my anything else though, He taught me how to lose my mortality.”

 

“…He hasn’t told me,” Castiel murmured, confused at that. His sibling shrugged.

“It’s different for everyone, I suppose. Then again, I didn’t have a Dean to fuck the humanity out of me. My options were much more…limited.” Finally, their eyes met, and in that split second Castiel’s heart shattered as he made sense of it all. He grabbed Balthazar’s arm, his eyes wide in his sudden realization.

“That was why you…you were trying to become an angel?” he whispered, his voice already cracking.

“As angels, you and I were the best of friends, Cas. We fought together, more often than I can count. But I couldn’t bring myself to force you, not my dear brother. Not you, my cute little Castiel. So I gave up. It wasn’t worth the price…but by then, I was already taking drugs. They had helped me cope with what I needed to do, and I guess that connection stuck through when I lit up.” Tears were gathering in Castiel’s eyes as his grip moved down to the older teen’s hand. He brought his face downwards, kissing the back of it before pressing his forehead to the skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked, “You’re like this…because of me…I am so sorry, Balthazar. My brother, if I had known I would have let you. I would have helped you to become what you should. I’m sorry, eternally sorry…there is no way to redeem myself for this.”

“Become an angel, Cas.”

“Wh-what?” He looked up, blue hues shimmering with unshed tears. Warm hands cupped his face, lifting it so he was sitting upright once more.

“If you become an angel, you can find my Grace, you can find everyone’s Grace, and allow us back into Heaven. Save us, Cas, and you will never have to apologize for anything ever again because we will...” he leaned forward to press their foreheads together, “I will owe you everything.” Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, willing his tears away. His hand held the older one to his cheek, using it to dispel away the last of his guilt-ridden cries. He would save his family. He would save his brother. Even if he lost all his emotions, all his humanity, he would bring redemption to his family.

*

Hours later, well into the twilight, Castiel glanced over at his roommate. Balthazar was fast asleep; a quick, whispered call shouldn’t wake him up. He hastily flipped open his phone and scrolled down to the handsome profile of a man staring ahead. A small smile quirked at the angel’s lips when he dialed the number. 

Even if it was just a short goodnight, he wanted to hear the man’s voice, wanted to hear something that soothed away the truths he’d learned tonight. So, with bated breath, he waited as it rung out.

“I’m sorry, but the number you have dialed has been disconnected.”

Blue eyes widened. No, that couldn’t be. He dialed the number again in his denial.

“I’m sorry, but the number you have-”

He slammed his thumb onto the end call button, beginning to shake. Dean had said that he would only stay until his dad called him, so that must have been what was happening. But without a goodbye…

He deserved a voicemail, at the very least. The thought suddenly brought him back to his phone as he searched his messages. One unread voicemail. He hurriedly typed in his password and brought the device up to his ear. The automated voice repeated he had an unread message. First voice message…

“Hey, Cas. It’s me…Dean. This’s been fun, but…well, I gotta go. Stuff to do…but, uh, good luck with the whole angel thing. I’m sure you’ll be a great one, even if your family’s pretty much a bag of dicks. Hopefully the world’ll turn out better with you up there…or wherever Heaven is. I, um…I actually liked being with you, kid, you know that? But sometimes people have to go…to keep others safe. And hey, maybe you can pay me back when you’re an angel, huh?” he gave a weak laugh, followed by a few seconds of silence that stretched on long enough to break a heart, “…bye Cas.”

The message ended, but that didn’t stop Castiel from replaying it a few more times. Tears welled in his eyes, sobs clogged his throat, but instead of succumbing to the fear of uncertainty, he only found himself becoming angry.

How dare he leave? This “whole angel thing” was because of Dean, because he couldn’t mind his own business. And without him, there was no way he could bring his family to salvation. The brunette had half a mind to track the man down and beat the apology he deserved out of him. That’s right, the man hadn’t even apologized.

Though this anger was terribly easy to focus on, there was still an aching in him that felt betrayed, perhaps even used. The aching made no sense. The only reason they had continued whatever their relationship could be called was because he turned out to be some fallen angel.

For the better part of an hour, his emotions leapt from hurt to anger, blaming Dean, blaming God, blaming himself; this kept up until, finally, he cried and brooded enough to the point of exhaustion and he fell into a fitful revelation of a dream.

*

A ’67 Impala sped down a winding road, both slick with fresh rain. Its driver was completely bushed, his eyelids beginning to slide downwards of their own accord, against his will. He knew he should stop to rest, but he knew he couldn’t. He needed to get further and further away, until the nagging voice in the back of his mind went away.

Turn back, Dean.

“Shut the fuck up!” he snarled aloud, uncaring how insane it made him feel. He had listened when the voice told him to kiss Castiel, when he told him to do it again, but not this time. No, the hunter was making the better decision this time. The teenager was innocent – heck, he was supposed to be an angel – and no matter how much Dean wanted him, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t explain it, he needed to get away. John had told him years ago that the life they led didn’t allow for lasting relationships. It was too dangerous, for the both of them.

That was what he kept telling himself as if it was his mantra, as he fought against every fiber of his being that wanted to turn around and drive to his house, take him away, and keep him in his arms for the next few lifetimes.

Turn back.

“Just shut up!” he snapped again. He reached for the cassettes to find some music to drown the nagging voice out, but being the only one in the car, he couldn’t quite reach the box.  
With a heavy sigh, he settled for the radio and began surfing the stations. After several minutes, he regretfully discovered that only two stations came in clearly: the news, and one that currently had Wild Cherry singing “Play That Funky Music” to him.

“Better than nothing,” Dean grumbled.

Turn around.

He groaned in response, turning up the volume until it was nearly blasting his eardrums out. In his angered and short distraction, he swerved the steering wheel just enough that an oncoming bus brushed against his own vehicle. Under normal circumstances, had he been going the speed limit of 35 miles per hour, it would have been an unfortunate accident but – for Dean, at least – he would have come out relatively unscathed. He’d been going around 85, though, which ensured that this crash was far from a mild one.

“And just when, it hit me, somebody turned around and shouted-”

His car, his baby, slammed into the bus, the entire front half crumpling inwards – trapping and crushing his leg in the process. The windshield shattered, shards of glass raining across his face and shoulders, cutting his right cheek deep enough to force blood to trickle down his face. His shoulder, while taking less damage from the glass, made a sickening crack as it connected with the smashed in door of the Impala. The crack was accompanied by several more, though Dean only managed to catch a few of them before he dropped out of consciousness.

For a short time, he swam in and out of awareness with his head screaming pain at him until the ambulance arrived. He was pulled from the car at some point, and laid down onto a gurney. His head lolled from side to side as he groaned and cursed in his pain. Not to mention there was still that nagging voice, no longer drowned out by the music…

Turn around, Dean.

*

He woke hours later in a sterilized room, aware only of the smell of rubbing alcohol, the dull pain throughout his body, and that he had that damned song stuck in his head. He sat up with gritted teeth, realizing movement only worsened the aches. It hardly took him a second to recall what had happened, and when he did, he let loose a string of swears.

“Where’s my damn car?” he groaned as loudly as his voice could manage, “Where’s my baby?”

“It got towed somewhere. You can claim it when you get out of here.” Green eyes widened and he whipped his head around – which was a terrible decision in hindsight – to take in the form of a familiar half-angel, or whatever he could be called at that point.

“Cas? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” the brunette retorted, unamusement etched into his expression, “I don’t see your dad anywhere, so why’d you run off?”

“Cas-”

“You coward. How do you think I’ll finish this angel thing without you? It’s all your fault to start with, you….you and your stupid hero-complex!”

“My fault? How-”

“You couldn’t just mind your own business, could you? I’d been dealing with Brad for a year and I was getting along fine without you!”

“Oh, so I was supposed to just drive by and watch the shit get beat out of you?”

“Whatever he would’ve done to me isn’t worse than this, Dean!” he shouted, gesturing to the bed. The conversation dropped into silence. His blue hues stayed trained on Dean, waiting for him to respond, waiting for that apology, for anything.

“…this wasn’t your fault or anything, Cas. You got my message, didn’t you?”

“It’s a sorry excuse for a goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For the message? Oh, I feel better now. Thanks.”

“For everything,” the hunter corrected. Castiel eyed him wearily, debating whether or not the apology was sufficient. Dean saw him contemplating and whined, “Come on, I’m the one stuck in a hospital bed!”

“…why, though? Why did you really leave?” he asked, rather than acknowledging the apology.

“Because, I wanted to keep you safe.”

“From what? I’m an angel, Dean. I can handle whatever comes to me. I handled you, didn’t I?” he retorted, not intending the pun. The hunter smiled nonetheless; that is, until he realized he would have to come clean about what he and his father did. After trying to tell Cassie Robinson, a woman he thought he’d loved, and getting rejected by her, he hadn’t planned on ever getting that close to anyone ever again.

But Castiel was different. He was an angel, for starters, and would be more open to the more “supernatural” part of life. The teen needed to know, especially since he would probably have to fight the same monsters off – if not worse ones.

“Cas, you don’t…there’s crap out there that you don’t wanna mess with. You know the monsters you’re afraid of as a kid? Yeah…they’re real. Me and my dad, we hunt ‘em and kill the sorry sons of bitches. I’ve been a hunter for years now and my old man’s been hunting even longer, since I was little. We go around, look for these monsters, and we get rid of them. Normally, we’re the ones hunting them down. But sometimes…this shit follows us home – even if home’s just a cheap motel room for a couple nights. I didn’t wanna stick around long enough to see what would come after me or worse, you.” He had never had to explain this before, wasn’t sure if he had done a good job of it.

“…so you hunt monsters…like demons?” The teenager seemed to be accept this as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, them and lots of other things. Banshees, werewolves, vampires…” He went on, talking about how to kill them, how to know which monster was which, times he’d had to fight them. For hours he spilled his entire secret life to Castiel, who drank the knowledge in silently, only moving to nod on occasion to express his understanding. Dean kept rambling until he exhausted his stories, until only one remained…

But he would never tell that one. His lover didn’t need to know how it had all started. The fact that he never mentioned his mother was enough of a hint.

“...and you think running away would protect me from all that?” the younger brunette finally spoke with his blue hues aimed in empathy. The man shook his head, suddenly feeling the dull pains grow sharper as whatever the doctors had given him began to wear off.

“I knew it would, but I didn’t expect you to come chasing after me,” he said, “How’d you find me, anyway? I disconnected my phone, covered my tracks…”

“It’s difficult to say…I had a revelation while I was sleeping. At first, I thought it was just a terrible nightmare, but I couldn’t shake it. You had gotten into a car accident. I remember the Impala getting smashed against a bus…remembered seeing you covered in blood and…I couldn’t stop myself. While I was asleep, I managed to see the name of the hospital on the ambulance, so I packed a bag and…and I came here to make sure you were still alive.”  
Something caught in his throat somewhere along the lines, and tears stung the back of azure eyes – the thought of losing Dean affected him on a level that was understandable, but he still felt embarrassed for nearly being brought to tears because of it.

“Hey, I’m okay. Just some cuts here and there,” the hunter assured; no matter how many monsters he killed and burned, it never prepared him for when others began to cry. Nothing could, really.

“Cuts? Y-you broke your...” Castiel snatched the clipboard from the end of the bed, “You broke your tibia and your shoulder and you fractured two of your ribs and your femur and-”

“Whoa, whoa. Okay, it might be a little worse than some cuts. But I’ll be back up and around in like a week, tops. Don’t worry about it, Cas,” he tried to soothe. Instead, the clipboard was replaced, the sadness even heavier on the younger male’s face.

“It says months, Dean,” he moved closer the head of the hospital bed, “You have to stay and heal up…I’m sorry…” The angel then stretched his hand out to stroke his lover’s cheek, wishing nothing more than for him to be fixed. Of course, he wasn’t expecting that wish to come true instantaneously. Actually, he hadn’t expected anything at all to happen.

“Cas…what the hell?” the man demanded slowly, surprised that the growing pain was gone. He sat up, not feeling the aches, even moved his arm as easily as if his shoulder was intact. Castiel pulled away , rising to his feet, while he stared at his hand in bewilderment.

“I, I don’t know…”

“Seriously, what the hell?”

“I don’t know!” he replied before it dawned on him, “But I think I know someone who might…” The brunette tugged his phone from his pocket, intending to call Balthazar. He glanced at the clock; it was almost nine in the morning. His brother didn’t believe in waking up during the morning hours, especially on Sundays. So, reluctantly, the angel instead called his older sibling.

“Y’ello,” Zachariah chirped, “Castiel, how are you this fine morning?”

“Brother, I have a question. Becoming an angel…does it happen all at once or-”

“Well, if you do the deed-”

“Let’s say that, hypothetically, the deed was sort of done,” he worded, trying not to outright say what he’d done with Dean to his brother – though he was unconvincing in his act.

“Good for you!” the older man cheered.

“Zachariah…”

“Right. Well it’s a progressive thing. First you’ll probably get some parlor tricks like uh…healing, sedation…those little things. The more you have sex with him then the more Heavenly powers you get. By the way, Castiel, where are you?” The younger male remained silent, his eyes trained on Dean.

He may be willing to save his brothers and sister, but that didn’t make some of them any less bearable. Besides, this gave him a chance to just spend time with the hunter as he wanted. So without giving his older sibling a response, he ended the call, turned the phone off, and slipped it back into his pocket. Zachariah would get over being hung up on, especially when they all returned to Heaven.

“Apparently I can heal now…and something about sedation...” he said to his companion, though his gaze followed his hand, trying to catch some sign that he was a different being. No, it was just a normal hand as ever.

“Yeah I kinda got that,” Dean murmured, shoving the thin set of sheets to the foot of the bed. He pulled out his IV drip, tore off his bandages, separating himself from all the now useless medical accessories. Castiel watched this with curiosity; what exactly did he plan on doing with no clothes and a cast wrapped around his lower leg?

“Cas…don’t suppose you’ve got some super strength now?” The brunette almost shook his head, but remembered that he really wouldn’t know until he tried. So he crossed over and knelt before Dean to try and tear at his cast. It was a futile attempt. If he was going to get any super-human strength, it would be further down the line. At that reminder, blue eyes couldn’t help but glance at the groin he was more or less at eye-level with.

“Nothing?” he sighed, “Figures. Alright, let’s go find something to get this off.” He rose to his feet, prompting his younger counterpart to stand as well. Castiel wasn’t sure how they were going to get the cast off, much less how they were going to escape the hospital. But he was sure that it was going to be interesting.

*

“I still don’t like it,” the angel frowned as he said this, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The air carried a heavy chill, despite the October sun beating down on his back.

“It’s just for a couple states until we get to the Impala, Cas. They’ve probably got insurance anyway.” Dean said this from inside the car, his head craned downwards while attempting to hotwire the stranger’s car, “Besides, it’s their fault for leaving the door unlocked.” No matter how Castiel approached this, stealing the car was wrong. Then, the car revved to life suddenly, making him jump a bit.

“Come on, Cas. Don’t make me force you in here,” the man threatened. The angel made a silent prayer that the owner did indeed have insurance before grudgingly sliding into the passenger seat. He tossed his bag into the back, buckled in, and hugged his knees to his chest.

“…you’re not gonna be like that the whole way to South Dakota, are you?” He waited as the silence stretched on, then added, “That’s six hours away, Cas.” The boy kept quiet, looking out the window. Dean heaved a sigh, but backed out of the parking spot to begin the long journey.

In the past two hours, Castiel Gassagen had committed more crimes and felonies than he had ever done in his life – and that included throwing away a penny he found on the ground. He had broken into several rooms, even a few doctors’ lockers to gather clothes for Dean, stolen a cast saw and helped him use it even though neither of them had a license to do so…What made it worse was that the older male had done all this without showing an ounce of remorse, as if this was second nature to him.

The entire ordeal left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, something that he would decide was guilt. No matter how many times he prayed for forgiveness, he could still taste the guilt.

So, rather than pretending he was fine with it all, he intended to sit there, saying nothing and only shifting the position of his legs when they began to fall asleep. But three and a half hours later, the hunter unexpectedly pulled over onto the road’s shoulder.

“The hell’s your problem?” he demanded, his voice raised already. A quiet car with one person was fine, but knowing an angel was sitting there, stewing to himself beside him, was driving him mad. Castiel looked to his companion, his blue eyes searing, well past the “calm before the storm” phase.

“You’re a criminal, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Is that how you live, Dean? Stealing to survive, running away from any normal problems, uncaring of the people you hurt in the process-”

“I already said I was sorry about it, Cas! What else do you want, a bunch of roses?” He was shouting now.

“I don’t know, I just-”

“What, Cas? Tell me whatever the fuck I have to do to get you to knock it off!”

“I wanted a better person!” he finally shouted back, surprised at his own words. Yet, he continued, “I thought you were a good person, Dean! You’re helping me become an angel again, so I thought you…I thought that made you decent and then you say you fight monsters like some sort of hero and after all this, I find out you’re just a lowly criminal who’s too afraid of a regular life to bother trying it!

“I can see your shame, your regret! Dean, you’re constantly denying what you want, denying that you could change if you just tried but instead you just keep fighting, obeying, and hurting yourself! I can’t even begin to understand why you think so poorly of yourself that you have to-” A hand shot out, gripped his shirt tight, and hauled him close to a pissed-off Dean.

“…don’t you ever…ever…say that again.” For a few moments, their eyes remained locked on the other pair, both with determined rebellion.

“You’re just afraid,” Castiel challenged in a whisper.

“Shut up, Cas.”

“But there’s no reason to be, Dean. You can have a regular life-”

“-what, with you?” he gritted, “Hate to break it to you, but you’re nothing special. I’m not some hero and don’t even bother with the ‘changing you’ crap. ‘cause you’re not changing me at all, kid. Once this is all over, I’m gonna keep drinking, stealing, lying, and without you I might even go back to getting laid.”

“Dean-”

“The only reason I’m sticking with you right now is because you’ve got a douchebag dad who decided to knock you down a couple notches. And remember that when you’re preaching from your high horse, Cas. You’re still human too, and you’re no apple pie yourself – hell, I had you begging for me just yesterday. Now what part of that’s supposed to be angelic?”

“It isn’t-”

“Just shut up, alright?” he loosened his grip, deciding he would rather have a silent, brooding angel beside him then having to sit there and have one yelling at him – though it was more him yelling at the teenager than anything.

“Well then why don’t you just fuck me here and get it over with!” Castiel finally managed to shout, sadness and anger mixing up inside him like a rampant tornado. The hunter narrowed his gaze on his companion and for a second, it looked as if he was going to ignore him and start the car.  
Instead, he jerked the brunette over to smash their lips together.

“Fine,” he hissed. Dean shoved him back to his seat with his right hand, his left struggling to find the keys to switch the car off. Once he heard the engine grow silent, he moved so that he was straddling Castiel’s lap after a moment of awkward finagling. It gave them a blessed few seconds to diffuse their anger enough so that when they kissed again, it wouldn’t bruise the younger mouth.

Castiel responded to the hunter’s nips and licks at his lip with a parting of his lips. As the foreign tongue caressed his own roughly, he slid his arms up until his hands were buried in and gripping onto brunette locks. When the older man’s hips dropped down to grind against him, it took all he had not to let out a pleased moan. He was supposed to be angry, supposed to be hurt…

But the way this man felt against him, the way he tasted, how his mouth claimed all it could, his body hot and all too tempting…

Without thinking, for his brain was already well on the way to shut down, his legs spread as far as they could manage and his grip on Dean’s head became more desperate. He moaned against him freely, trying to reciprocate the kisses as best he could. His shirt was lifted up to his armpits by rough hands before those hands dragged fingertips down his flesh. One brushed against his nipple, and Castiel was surprised when his body arched upward slightly and a small gasp sounded from his lips. The fingers paused and slid back up to begin teasing at the hardening nub. They pinched, rubbed, twisted, until the teenager was mewling for more and his erection was flush against his jeans – begging to be released, to be attended to. Dean eventually pulled away for air and to begin undoing his own pants.

But the sight of the angel stopped him short. Blue eyes watched him with heavy lids, lips parted for desperate pants, hands slipping from their place in the older man’s hair…

In that instant, all he wanted to do was to make love to him. He didn’t care that it was a bright afternoon and they were only pulled off to the side of the road, didn’t care who could see them…

“Dean?” Castiel breathed. Lips returned to his, though the kiss was infinitely softer than it had been. The hunter’s speech had been a good show, but deep down he knew there was more to it. He’d realized that and his anger, as a result, had diffused nearly to nothing. The wanton passion remained though, and his hand stretched downwards to unzip both their pants. Castiel followed suite, both males trying to push aside the layers of clothing. The hunter finished first, his erection twitching slightly in its excitement. His hand deftly moved to assist the younger male until his warm fingers were stroking at him.

“Ah, D-Dean…” he moaned as those fingers explored him. Dean was mildly surprised at himself, how unbothered by the fact that he was touching a man instead of a woman. Did this make him gay, or even bisexual? No, no he still liked women. He still loved the curve of their bodies, the warmth and softness of their breasts, how it felt when he was thrusting into them…

But the things he wanted to do to this guy…They were far from decent. He wanted him on all fours, wanted to see him gripping bed sheets as tight as he could, wanted to see him bouncing on top of him, his blue hues always watching to make sure he was enjoying it.

“Shit,” he breathed, his body unable to stand such fantasies.

“N-not so fast,” Castiel gasped. While Dean had been lost in his daydreams, his hand had absent-mindedly begun stroking the angel’s length until it was trying to pump the orgasm out of him.

“My bad,” Dean grumbled, “But uh…you wanna return the favor?” His lover made a face of concern, but when the hunter dipped down to press kisses to his neck, the hand almost moved of its own accord. Narrower fingers – ones that had yet to fully experience the world – encased the man’s shaft as they began to stroke him. An older moan sounded into Castiel’s neck, taunting his hand to move faster.

“No,” he murmured, “Draw it out, Cas. Nice and slow.” The order was upsetting – if he didn’t hurry, then he would orgasm before his lover yet again. Still, he began to pump the cock painstakingly slowly from base to tip. The hunter’s breath seemed to tremble on his skin, his own erection hardly receiving enough attention to do more than keep him erect. What a cruel torture, he thought to himself. But then he decided two could play at that game. He lifted his hips to playfully rub up against Dean.

“Dean…Dean, I want you,” he murmured, “Oh please, make me come…” Under normal circumstances, he would never allow himself to say such desperate lines. But fighting for his right to orgasm, for both of their sakes really, seemed to instill a certain level of desperation inside him.

The man chuckled for some reason, but made no verbal response. Instead, his lips travelled down past his clavicle, towards his young nipple. When Dean’s tongue struck out against the sensitive flesh, Castiel let out a hitched gasp. The tongue continued to lick circles around the nub before its owner’s mouth clamped down onto his flesh and began to suck and bite at it. The hand was still pawing at his erection, but with the added pleasure there was no way he could last as long – not to mention the older, slightly larger cock had been pulled out of his reach. The swollen head now rested between his thighs, burning hot against his skin.

“D-Dean,” he panted as his hand sought to bury itself in brunette locks. A guttural sound came from his lover as he ground the hardened nipple between his teeth. He didn’t seem to care that pre-cum was drooling onto his taunting hand or that it meant Dean would be coming last again. All he could think of was the boiling pleasure, threatening to erupt, and the sound of his own wanton voice mixed with the quieted slurping from the older male and his ministrations.

Just when he thought he could take no more, the man’s head lifted from his torso. He was smirking – yet another attempt at being cute – as green eyes realized what they were causing. Then, he descended onto the untouched nipple.

“Ah…S-stop,” he pleaded, “You didn’t…I…” He couldn’t manage words, not past the undeniable ecstasy that was beginning to whelm his body. Dean could tell he was close to his orgasm and knew better than to let him do so over the car or either of them; the trip still had two hours or so to go, and he couldn’t bear smelling their “sex” all the way there.

Lucky for him, his green hues caught sight of a suit hanging in the backseat. It looked classy, not that it mattered, not for what he decided he would use it for. He tore the jacket from its hanger – noting the silk on the inside of it – and wrapped Castiel’s cock in the torso of the fabric. Without explaining, he went back to pumping and teasing the shaft, planning to catch the younger male’s cum in the jacket.

“N-no, you didn’t…D-Dean I-” His breath hitched as the smooth silk brought him to his climax. He arched upwards, his eyes wide as the pleasure echoed through his body. Watching his lover come was urging the hunter to join him, so he moved his hips upwards on the angel’s body until he could thrust into the silk-lined coat. It wasn’t warm, but together with the smoothness, the wetness of Castiel’s seed, and the irresistible expression – it was just enough for Dean to play pretend that he was thrusting into what he could only imagine the brunette to feel like.

“Sh-shit,” he moaned, his mouth pressed into the teenager’s neck. Castiel, nearly having caught his breath, moved to rub at his companion’s shoulder, feeling as if he would sear his handprint into the man’s flesh if they got any hotter. The older man gave a few more thrusts into the jacket as he finished, his breath heavy on Castiel’s skin.

“Dean,” the angel whispered, “Oh Dean…I’m sorry for yelling at you. You’re still alive, after all that fighting, and that’s what matters. You don’t need to be normal; there is no normal, really. It’s-” Lips pressed against his, silencing the words. He kissed back, slipping his arms around the man. It was slow, almost lazy, as they worked their mouths against each other. But they enjoyed it, almost as much as they enjoyed their odd attempt at make-up sex.

*

Hours later, well after disposing of the jacket, Dean pulled into Singer Salvage Yard. He parked the car closer to the junkers than to the house, knowing they would have to either destroy the vehicle or ditch it elsewhere s the owner could find it – minus a piece of suit, of course.

“Alright, he probably won’t take to the whole angel thing at first, so I don’t want you saying anything until I’ve explained it. Okay?” His green eyes turned to Castiel, who was already climbing out of the car. He was listening to his lover, but his attention was drifting more to the nearly destroyed Impala that was peeking around a corner of the house. The hunter had been in that, had nearly died in that.

“Hey, Cas!” the older brunette called, “You even listening?” The teenager stopped, as he had begun walking towards the precious car, and found himself glad that he had the power to fix Dean and that he was here with him. He turned towards the older man, sending him a heart-melting smile.

“Of course,” he said while his companion pulled Castiel’s bag from the backseat.

“Then remember to grab your stuff.” He walked over to the angel, handing him the bag at the same time that he dipped his head down. They shared a sweet kiss, one that couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but it still gave the younger of the two a dizzying effect.

“Let’s go,” the hunter murmured while he thought about putting an arm around his lover, but settled on holding his hand – something more low-key – until they approached the front door.  
Then, he let him go completely and stood in front of the kid. He had no idea how the old man would react to an angel, short of trying to kill Castiel with whatever he could. So, crossing some figurative fingers, he rapped his knuckles on the frame of the screen door.

“Bobby,” he called, “It’s Dean. John’s kid!” The two stood there for a moment, then two, until finally an old man swung the door open. He looked Dean over, his expression the epitome of unamusement.

“Idjit,” he grumbled, “Why the hell’d you go and wreck that car?”

“It was an accident.”

“It’s an antique, boy. And your dad ain’t gonna care how the car got broke, he’s still gonna tear you a new one…but it’s damn good to see you in one piece.” He opened his arms to give the younger hunter a quick hug, but he stayed close a bit longer as his eyes locked with unfamiliar blue.

“Uh, Bobby-” The man pulled away from him, his gaze still transfixed on the stranger.

“Who the hell’re you?” he demanded. Dean opened his mouth to begin his disorganized explanation, but was interrupted by an apparently forgetful angel.

“I’m Castiel Gassagen. Dean is helping me become an angel of the Lord,” he introduced, figuring that reacting calmly to learning of angels must either be in the human repertoire, or at least the ones that knew his lover.

He wasn’t expecting the man to step back and slam his door shut though. No, that was an unpleasant surprise.

“Cas,” Dean groaned, “I told you not to-”

“He asked. I was hoping he’d react as calmly as you did…” The hunter shook his head and emitted a sigh before banging his fist against the door. Silence answered, so he “knocked” again. This time, there was the sound a rifle being loaded just on the other side.

“I got salt and silver, ya black-eyed bastards and I ain’t afraid to use ‘em!”

“Bobby, we’re not demons! Douse us with holy water if you want!” The words had no longer left his mouth before a bucket of water dumped itself onto the two. He should have expected such a cheap booby-trap – he was sure it was holy water – but at least Bobby was now certain that they were anything but demons.

“You wanna cut us with a silver knife too, or have we passed your test?” The old man opened his door at that, the silver knife in hand. Dean sighed; of course, Bobby liked to be thorough – and in any other case, he’d be glad for it. He rolled his sleeve up enough to expose his forearm and even took his own silver knife from his jacket pocket. 

Castiel hadn’t been aware that his companion had carried a weapon the entire time, but it wasn’t too surprising if the man went around hunting evil creatures. What did surprise him was when the brunette pressed the blade to himself and dragged it along his flesh for an inch or two, drawing enough blood to stream down his arm to his wrist, where a few unfortunate drops landed on the porch.

“Alright. Now him.” Bobby’s gaze shifted to the angel, his intention obvious. Castiel stepped back while shaking his head.

“No, you’re not cutting me. That’ll hurt!” he protested.

“Then you ain’t comin’ in, kid.” Dean gave his older friend a look that caused him to grumble and take a few steps back as well. Then, the teenager’s lover turned to him, his expression as soothing as he could force it to be.

“It’s just gonna be a small cut, Cas. A little nick and then you’re done and we’ll take care of it. Hell, I’ll kiss it better if that’s what it takes.”

“I’m not a child,” the younger of the two muttered, “I don’t need you coddling me. I just…don’t understand why I have to cause myself harm to get into the house of a total stranger.” At that, Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

“Trust me, Cas…he’s not some stranger. I’ve known Bobby for as long as I can remember. And the knife thing is to make sure you’re not a demon or anything. So was the water. We’re just bein’ safe, Cas, and in our business that’s the only thing that keeps you alive. So just do this, okay?” He held the knife out to Castiel still, but now the angel was reaching for it as well. His hand was trembling slightly, as he had never purposefully harmed himself before and the idea was still a little surreal, but he took the knife anyway and hovered the blade over his arm.

“For you, okay?” he whispered, his blue eyes looking into Dean’s. The hunter was impatient, wanted to get into the house and dry off, but he vaguely understood. This was new to the teenager and he needed to take it slow – except that if he cut himself slowly, the stinging pain would be worse.

“Cut it quick,” he urged. Once the blade pressed to lightly-tanned flesh, he helped it swipe along the younger arm quick enough that the pain was mild as well as the blood flow, which would be better left as a small trickle. Bobby was appeased by this though, and stepped aside to allow them both into his home. Dean led his companion in, glad that Castiel wasn’t making a fuss about the cut. 

He wasn’t glad that instead the angel was sucking lightly on the cut, trying to use his saliva as some sort of deterrent for the blood. Again, he couldn’t help but notice the brunette’s tongue was sinfully long and he could easily recall a few days ago, when that tongue had been licking its way up and down his…

Suddenly, he remembered Bobby was there and needed to be filled in.

“Mind if we stick around for a couple nights, Bobby?”

“Figured you would. Least long enough to fix that car,” the old man grumbled, “I got a room upstairs, if the kid needs a place to sleep. And I guess that leaves you the couch.”

“That’s-”

“Dean and I can share a bed,” Castiel announced before catching himself, “If…that’s easier...” He had forgotten that his older lover had insisted on his heterosexuality and that everyone he knew would expect as much from him – including this Bobby character. It would be wrong of him to break that news to anyone rather than allowing Dean to explain it.

“It don’t matter,” Bobby said slowly, his gaze switching from one male to the other in suspicion.

“I think…I’ll go to that room upstairs and change or something…” the teenager murmured. Bobby told him which door it would be and said nothing until he heard that door close and lock. Then he whipped around to Dean, eyes wide as he silently demanded an explanation.

“What the hell’re you doin’ with a crackpot like him?”

“He’s not a crackpot. Bobby, this angel thing…it’s real. You know I was in the Impala when it crashed,” Dean began.

“Yeah, so where’re your injuries boy? They said your leg was broke and-”

“He healed me, Bobby. He just touched my forehead and I was good as new.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’re seeing it with your own eyes, Bobby.”

“Well…why the hell didn’t he heal that cut?”

“Cas isn’t used to it, I guess. He hasn’t been an angel for very long…hasn’t known it for long, anyway.” He then launched into a long story, one that stretched into the moonlit hours of the night and sent Bobby downing two bottles of whiskey in his attempt to cope with what he was still sort of hoping was a made-up story. But in their business, almost nothing was made up anymore.

“So how exactly did you get yourself into this whole angel mess?” he finally asked. Dean still wasn’t sure how to explain it to Bobby, but there was no pushing it off any further. After a heavy sigh, he tried his best to explain to the older hunter that it was an accident, really, and that the brunette himself couldn’t quite explain how he had come to caring for the angel as much as he did, or doing all the things he did – which he skimmed over so as to not disturb Bobby with the mental images. Though, personally, he was enjoying the mental images enough to repeat them.

“…well that’s all fine an’ dandy, boy…but what’re ya gonna do when he’s all angel’d up?” Bobby knew what the younger hunter had been avoiding, what he didn’t want to think about. The brunette subsequently brought a hand to his neck, rubbing it as his expression turned into a myriad of worry and uncertainty. The old man sighed.

“Idjit,” he said quietly, almost fondly. He hadn’t expected these turn of events but he had to admit, it was good for Dean. Ever since Sam left for Stanford, the boy had no one to care for – and he had been watching over his younger brother since he was four, so he had been lost without his sibling. Castiel may not be the best substitute for a brother, especially when it came to the way those two made eyes at each other like there was no one in the room, but he was something for Dean to take care of. That was enough.

“Alright,” Bobby stood from his chair, “Guess I’m stuck with you two idjits ‘till you fix the car. I don’t get this whole angel crap, but tomorrow I’ll start reading up on what I can find. And whatever the hell you got goin’ with that kid…I don’t wanna know anymore than I hafta, ‘cause I don’t give two shits.” He crossed the room to get to the stairs and then to his bed, where he could fall asleep for a few hours and wake over with an ever-loving hangover.

“Thanks Bobby,” Dean called from his seat. The brunette thought he would stick around for a few more minutes, finish his beer.

“Yeah, yeah…oh, and if I catch you two doin’ anything…well, I’d better not.” There was only so much he was willing to see, after all. The younger hunter managed to crack a smile at that and lifted his beer in recognition of his older friend’s request.

*

“Bobby, did you want a beer with your burger?” Castiel questioned, poking his head into the old man’s study. He looked up, still not used to the friendly voice in his house.

“Yeah sure,” he grumbled, though the agitation in his voice wasn’t aimed at the teenager. Castiel seemed to understand that as he strolled in with an opened beer and an appetizing burger on a plate. After working a few summers back at Mrs. Fredericks’s diner, he had managed to pick up on enough fine dining skills to help out with the cooking back home – and this was no different, if not better. Here he only had to cook for three, and Dean had assured him that none of them were picky eaters.

He had nearly said “the greasier, the better” but thankfully he didn’t. Not that he needed to, because when the younger brunette came strolling out of the house towards his lover and his broken car, all Dean could see was that cheerful smile and the juicy burger he was bringing to him.

“Thought you’d want some lunch,” Castiel explained, a little nervous. He felt like some sort of doting housewife, doing the cooking and trying to clean Bobby’s mess of a house up. But he had never been one for shop and the extent of his knowledge stretched as far as how to change the oil or the headlight. And helping Bobby look for information on angels had been useless. He had asked his Father for help in prayer, but in his dreams he only saw images of the Beginning – the first tree, the first fruit it produced, how it developed into a forest…

It was an amazing and impressive sight, sure. But as far as helping them understand angels went, it was useless. So the housework was really all the choice he had.

Not that anyone minded. Bobby was surprised to see his kitchen counter, had convinced himself it was green when he discovered a day or so ago that it was, in fact, white. And Dean appreciated the attention. He wasn’t being taken care of per say, but it was something like being doted on. Castiel was his happy little homemaker, minus the dress and apron. No, he wore jeans and various shirts and sweaters. But Dean wouldn’t mind seeing an apron – especially nothing but an apron…

“Thanks, Cas,” he replied, setting the sledgehammer down. He had been trying to hammer the dents out of his car now, having found some pieces from all the scrap metal to replace some of the Impala’s broken bits. It was grueling work and sometimes, just for a split second, he wondered if repairing her was worth it. But then he would think of the Legos in the AC, the toy soldier stuck in the back, the initials carved into the dashboard, the image of Cas asleep beside him, head leaning on the window as he rested…

No, he would fix his baby, make her look brand-spanking-new. And he and his little angel-in-training could go off and kill some demons or whatever they needed to do. When he thought about it, though, he felt they were more likely to go down to Jericho to help his dad. After four days, without a word from him, Dean was a little worried. 

Some of their more difficult hunts had taken as long, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. John was the only other one in the family who fought these monsters after Sam left, and without him Dean would be the only one. He may not be one for talking about feelings, but it was needless to say that he didn’t want to be alone.

“Dean, are you okay?” Castiel asked, his worried and curious expression only inches from the older brunette’s face. This was realized and the hunter put on a smile. Just a few more days – he would give his father a few more days to reply to his calls and messages. He would finally hear that they had gone to Bobby’s place, would rush over to find about this angel thing, and then…

And then what? Could he tell his dad that he was getting hot and heavy with a boy who happened to be a fallen angel?

Or would it be the other way around that would upset his father?

He didn’t know these things, and instead of wracking his brain for answers, he just pressed a kiss to the teen’s forehead.

“Yeah, never better.” This placated Castiel, who returned the smile in his usual heart-melting upturn of lips. In that moment, the older brunette didn’t care that he wanted them keeping whatever this was on the down-low. He took the plate and beer, set it on a leveled part of the car’s roof, and pulled his angel close.

“You have to eat your lunch, Dean…” Not that he minded, being this close to his lover with green eyes that were debating on what piece of clothing he should take off first, but Dean had told him they couldn’t have sex, or any lead-up to it, under Bobby’s roof and he could only assume that extended to Bobby’s junkyard as well. Surely the hunter had a reason for saying it, and he shouldn’t be allowed to go back on it just because of a good burger and a sweet smile.

“Or I could eat you.” He grinned at that and proceeded to lean down and try to bite into Castiel’s shoulder, resulting in the teenager’s squirming laughter.

“No, I won’t taste good.”

“I bet you taste great.”

“No!”

“Just smother you in barbeque sauce and slap you between some buns.”

“Stop,” he complained; he was smiling though, suppressing laughter. Dean continued teasing him, eventually getting his mouth down close enough to nibble on his shoulder. But his mouth, still feeling playful, began to trail up the younger man’s neck.

“Dean…” It had been a game, just them being fun. But now, now he was trapped between the car and his lover, a burning mouth surely leaving a trail of fresh hickeys in its wake, his body catching fire as a result. His arms found their way around Dean’s neck, keeping him close. At this point, they could only hope Bobby wasn’t looking out at them because there was no stopping them.

Lips finally moved up and pressed against his, working their way against the soft mouth. It wasn’t long before a tongue joined and slipped past Castiel’s parted lips to grind with the familiar muscle. The angel moaned lightly and tried to pull his mate closer. All that happened however was a chuckle from Dean before he pulled away.

“Duck your head,” he murmured then returned to the kiss. Despite not knowing why he would d such a thing, the younger brunette ducked his head, and was subsequently pushed back into the car. The crash had destroyed the driver’s door and left a hole in the side, in which Castiel had been pushed so now he lay somewhat uncomfortably sprawled out across the two front seats. The back would have been better, but when Dean managed his way on top of the angel, he decided it wasn’t terribly uncomfortable.

“Are we going to…?” Blue eyes glanced down their bodies, where lust was all-too-willing to build up.

“Clothes on,” was all Dean said, though it was with a smile, before he dipped down to capture defiantly older lips once more. As they made out in his still out of commission Impala, Bobby had peeked out the window to check on the boys. Under normal circumstances, he would have made a face at the sight and turned away. 

But he noticed the smile the younger hunter had worn, how honest it had been, and he couldn’t recall the last time the kid had seemed so at ease and happy. It didn’t matter who it was, not really, as long as they made him that true kind of happy. But the old man could only hope that it lasted.

“Idjits,” he muttered under his breath, turning away from the window once Dean sank down onto his angel. Not to mention the burger and beer were still left unattended on the roof of the car. The flies would take to them like FBI to a monster’s murder. And that was a shame, because Bobby had thought his own burger was damn good.

*

The two hunters sat in the kitchen, sharing a beer or two as well as some hunting stories. They’d been doing this four nights, and there were still stories to tell. But tonight, Bobby hardly took a swig of his beer before speaking.

“Heard about a demon in Centuria, Wisconsin. Couple hours from here, but I figured you’d wanna get in on that one. Might be two, but sources’re a little shaky so you’d better go in with what ya can. I can lend ya a book on exorcizing the bastards but yer gonna hafta learn the pronunciation yourself an-

“You sure you can’t do this one, Bobby?” Dean said. The older man frowned at him, more than usual.

“Just because you’ve got some angel to take care of don’t mean you ain’t a hunter, boy.”

“But Cas-”

“He can stay here.” The brunette was obviously hesitant, unwilling to leave his newfound angel’s side. Bobby could understand this – he was the same way with John and Sam, the people he cared for – but the dependency issues were getting on his last nerves.

“I don’t-”

“Take me with you.” Both men turned to see Castiel standing at the doorway, his expression something unreadable. He strode towards them, taking a seat besides Bobby as opposed to his lover. Obviously, he was intending to guilt Dean into going on this hunt. He shook his head though, downing the last of his beer.

“Not happening, Cas. You’d get hurt or…you’re not going, alright?”

“If I get hurt, I can heal myself. More importantly, I can heal you. Let me help, Dean.”

“You’ll get in the way, Cas. I’ll go, but you’re staying behind. Got it?” He wasn’t going to chance him getting killed or whatever it was that happened to angels. Inadvertently destroying heaven’s one hope would not look good on his afterlife resumè.

“No.”

“…no?”

“I’m going with you, Dean, whether you think it’s a good idea or not. If I’m an angel, then shouldn’t I be able to defend myself against monsters?”

“These aren’t just any old monsters, Cas. These are demons, the worst of the worst. They can’t be killed, only exorcised. Do you know how to exorcize demons?” Castiel opened his mouth to speak up, probably something he thought was witty but would only dig his hole deeper. Thankfully, Bobby spoke up first.

“Do you, Dean? Son, the only demon you’ve ever heard of is the one who killed your mother.”

“Bobby-”

“Dammit boy, shut up and listen to me. That demon is stronger than your every black-eyed bastard and if you want to fight these things then you’ve got to practice at it like everything else. Cas can help you and he better damn well start if you plan on keeping him around.” He knew he was hurting the boy’s feelings, but frankly, he’d better toughen up or he wasn’t going to last long – angel or not.

“…fine. But you do exactly what I say and when I tell you to get out of there, you get the hell outta Dodge. Got it?”

“Got it,” the teen replied with a smile, one the hunters thought he shouldn’t be wearing. He had just been allowed to fight off a demon. That was nothing to look forward to. Dean stood from his chair, stretching out a bit.

“Might as well get some sleep,” he sighed, “Couple hours’ drive tomorrow morning.” Castiel rose to his feet as well, nodding in agreement.

“But where will we get a car? I didn’t think the Impala was fixed yet…” Dean frowned and then seemed to recall something.

“Guess I forget to tell you…I finished her up while you were out grabbing some groceries,” the older of the brunettes replied, “It’s been, what? Five days since the crash? I know my baby inside and out, so it wasn’t gonna take me long to fix her up.” For some reason, blue eyes lit up and a smile spread across his lips.

“That’s wonderful. I know it means a lot to you…and when I couldn’t fix it…but I bet she looks better than ever,” he said. Dean regarded him with a strange look but jerked his head a bit in a motion for Castiel to go back upstairs. He did so, pausing only to strain himself up a bit and give his lover a chaste kiss, in hopes that he could later spoon himself against Dean with those arms wrapped around him.

The older brunette simply watched him walk out of view, trying to bottle up the fear he was being whelmed by. It was the same feeling he had when Sam had started hunting more actively with John and him, and it was just as sickening to start as it had been then. He didn’t care that Castiel was an angel, or that he had the healing powers and who knew what else. He was still worried that he would mess up, that he would lose someone dear to him – and there weren’t many people he could consider for that.

“Idjit,” Bobby huffed, “You boys’ll be fine. Just get some rest an’ get the job done. ‘cause that’s all it is: the job.”

“…he’s not part of the job, Bobby.”

“I know he ain’t, idjit. You think I don’t see you two makin’ eyes at each other all the time? Me and Karen…when we started out it was almost as bad as the two of you. So I get it, that he’s not just something you gotta deal with. But…you’re gonna have to deal with it eventually. Whatever this angel thing is, it’s big. Bigger than we’ve dealt with before, boy. And I just hope you deal with it better than…”

“Bobby,” Dean murmured, knowing it was hard to bring up his deceased wife, “I promise. We’ll figure it out, me and Cas.” His eyes locked with Bobby’s, and the old man simply gave a stiff nod. That seemed to suffice – hell, it spoke volumes: him approving their relationship, thanking Dean for not making him go on, telling him goodnight – and the younger hunter went up to bed.

*

“So we just…sit here? And eat burgers?” Castiel asked from the Impala’s passenger seat as his blue eyes took in the sight of an excited man trying to fit a triple-decker barbeque burger into his mouth. The excessive sauce, easily dribbling its way down Dean’s chin, and watching him carefully lick the flavor off his lips could have silenced the angel’s protests; however, he understood they were on a “hunt” and they were supposed to be sending demons back to Hell.

“They’re demons,” he said around a mouthful, “We can’t just jump in gung-ho. We gotta get in there when they’re not so we can trap ‘em. That way they can’t escape the meat suit while we go through the exorcism.”

“Trap them? Like, with a net?”

“No, it’s called a devil trap and…you want me to explain everything, don’t you?” When the teenager nodded, finding a smaller burger in his own hands, Dean heaved a sigh. That was the problem with greenhorns; they didn’t understand the lingo. And it didn’t help that the older brunette had hoped for some barbeque-flavored kissing. Instead he was teaching Hunter’s Guide 101 to his…

Come to think of it, what did Castiel constitute as? A boyfriend? That sounded too immature, less important than it was. Soul mates sounded like lovesick high school kids – which one of them technically was.

He could only think so off track when he spoke, and only got that far because hunting was etched into his veins, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“What about school?” he suddenly asked, interrupting his own description of devil’s traps. Castiel frowned, a fairly cute sight, but continued eating his burger until all that remained was the sauce on his fingers.

“You mean my high school back home?”

“Yeah. Is it alright that you’re missing so much?” he wondered before stuffing some fries down his gullet. They were good – piping hot and a little too salty, but good.

“I didn’t think it mattered anymore. Once I’m an angel, I don’t think I’ll even be on Earth...it’s kind of a shame, though. I would have been the first to go to college. Balthazar was held back a year, and I doubt he has any plans…and Zachariah went off to work…”

“Well you’ll be the first to be an angel so at least you’ve got that going for you,” Dean said, trying to lighten the mood. The younger of the two gave him a small smile and leaned closer to his lover.

“Yes, thank you for that.” There was something in his eyes – maybe something playful – as he moved closer and closer to the hunter. He was beginning to forget about the demons, to forget about everything but the lips he’d come to adore over the past week or so. His eyes were about to close for a lingering kiss until he caught movement in his periphery.

“Dean!” he whispered sharply as he pulled back, “Look, he’s coming out!” The older brunette glanced over, catching a glimpse of not one, but two people walking out of the supposedly abandoned house. He couldn’t tell if they were demons, though, or if they were just some punk college kids. When he turned to tell Castiel to stop staring, he saw the boy’s expression was one of terror – more than it should have been. Something was wrong.

“What is it? Cas, what’s-”

“Their faces…oh god, their faces…” Tears were gathering in his blue hues and his hand was gripping onto Dean’s sleeve tightly. Whatever it was he was seeing, it wasn’t the average appearance that his companion was seeing.

“What does it look like?”

“Demons. They have to be demons,” he murmured, closing his eyes and leaning forward to press his face into the man’s leather jacket.

“You sure, Cas?”

“Of course,” he murmured against the coat, “Can’t you see them?” Dean almost said no, but his attention was instead focused on the fact that the demons were looking around. He pushed his angel down, uncomfortably though he didn’t care, and made sure they went unseen. Castiel still clung to him while he tried to calm himself down.

“Okay…Alright, I think we’re good.”

“We need to get rid of them, to exorcize them. Dean, we have to send them back to Hell,” the angel said with a conviction his mate hadn’t been expecting. But when he looked into those blue hues there was something else in them – something more. Was that his angel side – if that’s what he could even call it – showing through? A part of him was unsettled by it, but more than that he was comforted in the fact that Castiel wasn’t hesitating over this hunt.

“Then let’s get in and draw some traps up and catch ourselves some demons,” he grinned. The two climbed out of their car once Dean made doubly sure the demons had gone – not to mention that Cas was trying to explain some kind of vibe that they weren’t in the near area. The older brunette tried to compare it to a “spidey-sense” but the reference went right over Castiel’s head. So he wasn’t a DC fan, probably not even a comic book fan.

They got the guns, the chalk, and the book with the exorcism prayer from the trunk before heading up into the house. Dean pulled a chair over towards the entrance, stood on it, and began drawing the symbol with Castiel holding up the book for reference.

“So these markings, they trap them?”

“Yep, as long as the circle’s complete, they could be stuck there for the rest of time, I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s ever happened.”

“No, probably not. If someone knows enough to trap the demon, they can probably get rid of it too.”

“Like we’re doing.”

“Just like we’re doing.” The older man stepped down from the chair, head craned upward to admire his handiwork, “Looks just like the book, right?”

“Enough that a demon would think so,” Castiel replied with a slight smile. Dean laughed and, from beside his lover, stretched an arm across his shoulders.

“You just made a joke, Cas. Guess I’m rubbing off on you after all.” The younger brunette nearly made a sexual comment in return about their “rubbing” but something else got his aattention first.

“Dean, they’re almost here.”

“How close?”

“By the Impala.”

“Damn it, I wanted to get outta here before they walked into the trap,” Dean grumbled before sighing, “Fine. Hide around that corner. Come on, outta sight.”

“They’ll sense me, Dean, more than they can sense you!” Castiel complained. He was still urged away from the entrance.

“Then stay away from the window. Just make sure they come through that door.” The angel did so, trusting his companion as he had been doing all along. The hunter found a similar place to hide, and with just enough time too because the demons came storming back into the house.

“Dip me in lamb’s blood and call me a Djinn, I think I smell a human in here,” one cooed with a drawn-out sniff. The other laughed until it tried to take a step further into the house.

“What….Shit, look at the ceiling! Fuck, it’s not just a human; it’s a goddamned hunter!” it hissed. Dean came out then, once he was sure they were both trapped in the circle. He wore a victorious grin, albeit preemptive, and opened the book to the bookmarked page. Castiel only peered around the corner, wanting to keep his distance from the demons – especially from their true faces sweating with blood and crawling with death.

“Let’s send you black-eyed bastards back down to hell,” Dean spoke before continuing in Latin, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.”

Castiel watched him the entire time, watched him form syllables from a long dead language as he was banishing demons from the Earth in the Lord’s name, and felt something swell in his chest. It wasn’t quite lust, but something else. Pride, perhaps…

Whatever it was, it brought a smile to the angel’s face. And distracted him enough that he didn’t notice the creature sneaking up behind him.

Not until it was too late.

“Well hello there little…my my, aren’t you a breath of fresh air? What are you, boy?” it hissed as arms gripped Castiel tight. He didn’t need to look around to know what it was: a demon. There had been a third demon, and they had missed it. Dean was cursing as he dropped the book and reached for his gun; he should’ve been more thorough, should’ve waited longer before charging in.

“Now now, Dean,” the demon chided, currently wearing a female pediatrician, “Don’t even think about it…otherwise your cute little friend here won’t be so cute….or alive.” Dean froze and for the first time in a long time, since Sam was hunting with him and John actually, he was scared. Because he had messed up, Castiel was in danger.

“Alright,” he grumbled, “Don’t hurt him or I swear I’ll-”

“Forget your threats, meatsack. You’ve just sent my companions back to Hell. Trying to scare me is a waste now, since I’ve got nothing to lose. You’re gonna do me a favor and kill yourself. That way I don’t have to put the effort. You do that for me, and I’ll let this little wimp go. He’s no threat to me, probably about to piss himself, aren’t you?” The demon’s gaze dropped down to Castiel. The angel would have replied if there wasn’t a hand gripping his throat. He couldn’t let Dean agree to this, couldn’t let this monster get away. 

“Cas, don’t worry. You’ll be alright,” Dean began, his choice obvious. Tears were threatening to spring to Castiel’s eyes, but the pain of his loss was overwhelmed with a riteous sadness– that someone doing so much good should perish before his time...it was wrong.

No, it was forbidden.

Then you must strike out with the power I bestowed upon you, My child.

Blue eyes widened; he hadn’t heard the Lord’s voice for days, and never while he was awake. But while he was astonished, a part of him understood the words. He turned around slowly, piquing the demon’s interest and ignoring Dean’s shouting protests. The demon’s face was horrifying, but he swallowed the terror – no, it wasn’t terror. There was sadness, pity even. Those souls were once humans, sad and tortured, but they had long since lost humanity after their time down in Hell.

“What are playing at, little human?” the demon asked. Castiel kept silent and slipped his arm out from its grip to bring his hand up to the body’s chest.

“Well aren’t you a curious little thing?” the demon looked him over, “You’re cute enough. Maybe I could take you off his hands. He’s going to be dead soon, after-” The hand rose to his forehead and in that instant, something began to glow from inside the demon. She screamed, the light flooding her eyes and her mouth.

And then it was over. The demon was gone, the empty body dropped to the floor like the other two, and Castiel was staring at his hand with bewilderment.

“…Cas?” The angel turned around, his face suddenly devoid of emotion.

“The demon has been exorcized,” he responded. Dean took another step toward him, his hands already empty and reaching out towards him.

“Yeah, I figured…but I didn’t know you could do that.”

“…neither did I.” Castiel looked at his hand with more curiosity than before, “But He told me-”

“He?” Now the angel was smiling brightly.

“Yes. The Lord spoke to me, Dean. He has a wonderful voice.” Dean was right in front of him now, trying to pull Castiel into his arms. The younger brunette did so, finding the proximity and the muffled sound of Dean’s heartbeat soothing. He pressed a kiss to the man’s shoulder.

“I’ll bet He does,” the hunter murmured while he thanked “God” for saving their skins. So Castiel could sense danger, heal wounds, and to an extent fight…

He was coming on every hunt now, no doubt about it. Even if he was worried for the kid, Dean knew he was too strong an ally to pass up. Not to mention that he would rather have him by his side than anywhere else.

Except under him, maybe, but that was for another time…

*

“Dean? Mm…Why are we stopping?” Castiel yawned from the passenger seat. The Impala had pulled over into a parking spot for the Budget host Inn. Dean shut the car off and looked over at him, smiling at the heavy-lidded boy.

“It’s late,” he said, “And we need to talk about your angel thing.”

“We could just talk in the car,” But he was already climbing out of his seat and onto the asphalt. He pulled his bag from the backseat, shouldering it grudgingly.

“If you didn’t fall asleep in five minutes, yeah, maybe,” he teased as he followed suit – bag and all. Castiel shrugged it off and followed after him towards the check-in office. The older brunette leaned on the counter with a friendly smile.

“Hi, we’re gonna need a room.” The clerk glanced up from her phone.

“Two queens?” Dean nearly started yelling right there; just because he was Castiel’s “soul mate” or whatever didn’t mean he was gay, much less a queen. But when he felt the angel’s hand on his, it seemed to hit him that she was talking about the beds, not them.

“Two?”

“One for you and one for your brother…?” She looked up at him now, wondering if he was going to be a trouble-maker. She hated those, and being the only one on the graveyard shift, she’d have to be the one to deal with it. But he wasn’t going to cause trouble, though he was slightly agitated. They didn’t look alike, not really, and the fact that his…

The fact that Castiel was being called his brother unsettled him.

“He’s not my…we’re…we’ll just take one bed, thanks,” he managed past the sputtering. She kept her gaze on him for a moment before sighing out a “whatever” and reaching back to take a key from the row of them.

“Here you go then,” she said while setting it don on the counter. Dean gave her his credit card, one under the name of Hector Aframian, and once the transaction finished he took the key and led Castiel out and down the sidewalk to their room. The teenager walked in until he was beside the bed and dropped himself down onto it. That left the older of the two to lock the door behind him, close the curtain, and set their bags on the floor by the dresser.

“Cas, don’t-”

“I’m not going to sleep,” he sighed, though he kept his head pressed into the pillow, “And don’t start talking about my ‘angel thing’ again. It’s not an angel thing; I’m an angel. That’s it.”

“Alright, fine. Don’t be so touchy, Cas.” The teen rolled over onto his back, a tired expression on his face.

“Sorry.” He reached an arm out for him, but Dean didn’t move.

“…Cas, I want you to come with me to Jericho.”

“What’s in-” But he was interrupted by the answer. The hunter didn’t like asking for help, didn’t want to, but if they wanted to defeat their demon, it would be stupid not to bring him along.

“My dad and I could really use your…”

“My help?”

“Yeah,” the older brunette said, “That. Dad hasn’t called me back, and I’m worried about him. I was thinking about giving him another week before going down there to make sure everything’s okay. I don’t know if you’ll be completely angel’d out by then, but…it’d be nice to have some super-powered backup…if you’ll come with me.”

Castiel didn’t even have to think before answering, “Yes, of course.”

“Really?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I told you, I can hold my own against demons and if they’re the worst things out there, then I should be fine. I want to meet your father, too…” For a second, Dean thought about introducing him to John and trying to explain the situation. He really hoped his father wasn’t as homophobic as he was imagining.

“…and I’d hate for you to lose another parent.” Green eyes zoned in on the teen’s face, while accompanying lips pursed slightly and frowned.

“I never told you how my mom died,” he murmured.

“No. But you don’t have to if you’re not ready, Dean.” The hunter thought for a moment, licking his lips as he did so. Castiel moved closer, beside him on the edge of the bed, and put his hand on the man’s knee.

“It wasn’t a normal death…the demon…it killed her…nearly killed Sam…” He kept his gaze on his companion, knowing the eye contact would keep him from any possibility of shedding tears. The angel rubbed his knee now, his face one of comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I promise…I’ll help you defeat this demon. I’ll fight by your side for as long as I can, as best as I can so you don’t have to be afraid. I’ll make sure you never lose anyone ever again,” he said, moving his hand to hold Dean’s as he did so. The older brunette gave him a weak smile in return.

“Cas, you can’t-”

“I promise,” he reiterated, bringing the calloused hand up to his lips to kiss at the slightly darker knuckles. The smile widened, became a little more genuine.

“Alright, if you’re set on it.” And then he was leaning into Castiel’s personal space, pressing their lips together, letting his hand go to slide his fingers up to the younger man’s hair. He gripped it, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss as the teenager preemptively moaned against him. Dean pulled away with a cocky smile, releasing the angel’s hair to lift his shirt up and tease at an already pert nipple.

“Dean…I can’t…not if you’re like that,” he murmured while his hands shakily petted the older man’s head. But he was ignored and the hands moved further and further down until they were undoing his pants. He tried to stop him, thinking it was unfair. Then, Dean looked up at him with a strange gleam in his eyes.

“Leave it, Cas. Think of it as a thank you, okay?” While their gazes were locked, the hunter’s hands continued their work until Castiel’s pants were pooling at his knees. And when a warm palm pressed against his underwear, it took all the angel had not to buck into the touch.

“Okay,” he agreed, spreading his legs further. Dean laughed at him for it and took a step back, enough that he could close the younger brunette’s legs. Before he could complain, the older man was yanking his pants and underwear down completely, leaving it dangling off of one ankle. Blue hues watched as he dropped to his knees in front of the teen with a sort of uncertainty. Not that Castiel could blame him; he hadn’t been with a man before, so everything about them must e new to the man. Given that fact, he’s been great about it all.

But now, eye level with the younger erection, Dean couldn’t help but worry. He was a great lover, he knew, but he only hoped he could give decent head.

“Just gonna…” He brought his face closer to the cock, deciding he would try a few kisses first. One close to the base, another towards the middle, and then a few more following the faint vein that travelled along it. When his lips pressed to the teenager’s tip, he thought about glancing up. No, he was no hesitant virgin. 

So, without thinking on it, the hunter licked his lips and took as much of Castiel into his mouth as he could comfortably fit. It was a little dry, but as he licked and drooled along the shaft, it began to slicken so he could try to take in more.

His companion moaned, not having expected to be taken in so quickly. But the warmth, the damp cavern of Dean’s mouth, was too much and his hips jerked upwards until his entire length was hidden from view.

The older brunette gagged and nearly pulled away to cough and hack in complaint; yet, after a moment of calm, he realized that having Castiel’s erection down his throat was more comfortable than he’d expected. After all those years of eating crap fast food, his gag reflex had strengthened enough that the salty taste of flesh in his mouth seemed fine in comparison. So, he started bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks like he’d seen countless women do to him when they sucked him off. His younger lover seemed to enjoy it, because two lithe hands found their way to his hair and gripped onto the short locks tight.

“Dean…oh Dean…Just like that…Faster…please, faster,” Castiel panted while his hands tried to guide the hunter into that quicker pace. He complied without question, moving his head as fast as he could though he only fit most of the teen’s cock past his lips due to the increase. 

The angel’s legs moved to rest over his shoulders until they were slowly closing in around Dean’s head. Castiel crossed his ankles behind the man’s head as he was spurred closer and closer to his orgasm, his moans growing louder and louder until it felt like he was crying out his lover’s name to the Heavens – if anyone was there to hear it, anyway.

His mate made a sound of approval, his voice sending sweet vibrations up the younger shaft until it spread through his spine to his brain, assuring him that he was painfully close.

“W-wait, I…I’m almost…Dean, stop…Dean…” The hunter kept going though, curious about what his cum would taste like. Castiel hadn’t seemed to enjoy it, but he probably didn’t enjoy the strong burn of whiskey down his throat. He kept bobbing his head, sucking and licking as best he could – like he was a little kid again, trying to save a popsicle as it was melting in the hot summer sun.

And with the way his tongue and mouth were moving, it was just as messy.

Not that his companion minded. He couldn’t care less if it was messy. All that mattered was that Dean was on his knees, giving him a pleasure he’d never given anyone else, and he wanted him all the more because of it. As the man continued, Castiel’s grip on his hair tightened, his eyelids fluttered closed, and his body was beginning to curl in on him. The older brunette thought it was cute, for some reason, and kept going.

By then, his lover had reached his limit. Toes curling, voice breaking as he moaned, Castiel came hard. His seed shot into Dean’s mouth, down his throat, practically burning all the way down. It was a bitter flavor, but the hunter had swallowed worse so it took almost no effort to down the byproduct of his lover’s climax.

“Ah, D-Dean…Dean it was so…” he huffed, unable to come up with a succinct response. Dean gave his angel’s tip a last lick along the slit before rising to his feet. He had his own erection, strained painfully against his jeans and boxers.

“Awesome?” he supplied. The angel simply gave him a lazy nod. Right, he remembered, the teen had been tired. With a smile and a petting of his hair, he continued, “Why don’t you hit the hay while I take a shower?” And he didn’t have to fight him on it because he was replied to with another lazy nod followed by his companion laying down on the bed once more – not bothering to fix his clothes – as he settled in for sleep.

“Night,” he breathed while his face nuzzled against the pillow. Dean grinned; he was too cute for his own good sometimes, and a part of him nearly stayed there. But his lust was more convincing, so after a quick kiss on the teenager’s forehead and putting his jacket over the kid’s half-asleep form, the older brunette went to the bathroom to clean up and rub one out.

Being in his shower though, he couldn’t have noticed the sudden frown his lover wore or the desperate way he had clung to his green denim jacket…

*

Dean watched as his younger companion trudged out of Bobby’s office and to the bathroom. Apathy was all over his face, except for his eyebrows where the reminder of a frown had somehow managed to settle. He had been like that for the past few days, ever since they came back from the hunt in South Dakota. There had been no explanation for it, as Dean had been as affectionate as ever. He’d even tried to spoon with the teen last night, and all he received was a limp form, a heavy sigh, and some teary eyed stares. It killed the mood faster than he could kill any monster and he’d gone to sleep, back turned to him.

He had no idea what was wrong with him, but maybe Bobby did. The old man knew everything, after all.

“The hell’re you asking me for? He’s your…I ain’t here for this kinda help, ya idjit.”

“Come on, Bobby,” Dean whined, “I don’t know how to deal with this stuff.”

“…I know you don’t,” he grudgingly admitted. Dean sat down by his desk, thinking he was about to be blessed with a solution to the angel’s sadness.

“Then help me.” Bobby stared at him for a while. Normally, he came to him for everything hunter-related, just as his father did. Now he was trying to make someone feel better – someone other than Sam, which in itself was surprising. There must’ve been something about this Castiel kid because it seemed like Dean was getting in deeper than he realized.

Or maybe he did realize it. Who knew? And frankly, Bobby didn’t care. He was starting to get tired of the moping their friendly neighborhood angel was doing.

“Alright, alright, fine. If ya don’t know what you did, then maybe it ain’t you. Either way, you should…I dunno, take him out somewhere. A movie or somethin’. Then try and get it out of him. That’s the best I got.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes. He really was too old to be giving dating advice. What did the kids these days even do for dates? But going by Dean’s thoughtful expression, something he said had struck a chord with him. Good.

“Yeah…Yeah, I can do that. You mind doing me a favor?”

“Just tell me what you need,” Bobby sighed, resisting the urge to smile. Favors, he could do. Look up a type of monster, figure out how Dean could kill it, order a new part for the car…

“I need you to get us a reservation at a nice restaurant - nothing too ritzy, but better than a diner. Something close by would be great.” And the older man just gave him a blank stare. What was his life turning into? Still, he knew how much effort that took for the man. Anything but a diner would put him on edge, out of place like a scotch on rocks in a line of martinis.

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do,” he conceded while he rubbed the back of his neck, “But don’t make this a regular, got it?”

“Got it. I’ll go tell Cas I’m takin’ him out tonight.” He got up, a grin across his lips, and walked out to find Castiel – who had likely finished using the bathroom by then. Bobby sat up in his chair, frowning more than his usual.

“You’re welcome!” he shouted after the younger hunter. There was a muffled “thanks” from up the stairs and it made him sit back in his seat with a sigh and a shake of his head.

“Idjit,” he grumbled before trying to figure out where any nice, nearby places to eat were.

He’d rather have been looking up information on a monster.

*

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dean found himself asking after they had climbed back into the Impala. If he was honest with himself, it could have gone much better. He was fidgeting and shifting the whole time, not used to the monkey suit Bobby had told him to rent. It was a good idea though, besides the itch of the fabric, because even his nicest clothes wouldn’t make the cut in that place. Bobby had gotten them a table at some four-star Italian place – something about Buona Fortuna, whatever that meant. When he had said a nice place, Dean was expecting Olive Garden or Ruby Tuesdays.

Still, the pizza was pretty great and Castiel had seemed to enjoy himself a little; the hunter had caught him bearing little half-smiles every now and then.

“Dean,” the angel called softly.

“Yeah?” He snapped to attention, his green eyes focused on the teenager now.

“I was telling you that it was fine,” he reminded, “Except you didn’t seem to enjoy yourself.”

“The food was awesome.”

“I know, but you seemed…uncomfortable.”

Dean sighed, “Don’t worry about it, Cas. I’m just more cut out for picking women at bars.” He had meant it as a joke, however true it was, but the look that crossed Castiel’s face made him groan.

“You would rather have gone out and-”

“No, that’s not-”

“You still can, Dean. It’s only nine o’clock, the night’s still young.” He was saying this, but there was no anger or spite behind his words. That didn’t lessen Dean’s growing anger though. If anything, it made it worse. He was glaring now, at the crestfallen teen, with his fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

“What the hell is wrong with you all the sudden?” he demanded as he tried to keep his cool.

“Nothing’s wrong-” And the cool was gone.

“That’s a load of crap, Cas. You’ve been like this since we left South Dakota! Is it ‘cause you’re afraid of meeting my old man or something?”

“No, I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Are you afraid to face the demon?”

“I’ve told you, Dean. I can-”

“-hold your own against a demon. Yeah, I got that. Then what the hell’s wrong? You’ve been at this kicked puppy act all week and now you’re trying to push me away? The fuck that’s gonna work. You’re the one who told me that I’m stuck with you until you’re a full-on angel. So either you tell me what’s wrong or make up your-”

“You don’t want me,” Castiel murmured out, hurt that his companion felt that he was “stuck” with him. The hunter fell silent while he processed that.

“What?” he still ended up asking.

The angel pulled his knees to his chest, “You’re not gay, right? I’ve made you do so much but…I want you so badly and it isn’t fair of me because you’ve given me so much.”

“Cas,” he choked; were they really having this conversation? He had been trying to be sensitive and patient all this time and that was the problem?

“I know you can push yourself to do a lot, but every time you start kissing me I feel like I’m going to melt, but then I feel guilty because if it wasn’t for me you’d be picking up women at bars just like you’re used to.” He couldn’t word his reasons as well as he’d liked, but at least he was voicing them – even though the older man seemed angrier than he had expected him to be. The teenager was about to add something else when Dean reached to put his hand on the back of his lover’s neck and pulled him closer.

“Just shut up, Cas,” he mumbled against the younger lips. Blue eyes blinked once, twice, before they slid closed. He knew it was as much as he'd get, and it was hard to resist the taste of Dean's lips. But then he was being pulled further, another hand reaching to his back.

“We shouldn’t-”

“C’mere,” the hunter insisted before he bit at the younger lip. Castiel gave in, yet again, and unbuckled his seatbelt. They hadn’t even left the parking lot yet, he noted; people could be watching them. His lover couldn't have cared less about outside the car. No, he was focused on the lithe form he was trying to coax into his lap. More experienced lips travelled downwards, along the teen's neck, to drag soft and trembling gasps from his mouth.

“If we keep doing this,” Castiel whispered, “We’ll get the Impala dirty.” Dean liked where the kid's mind was going, and nipped the flesh just below his ear.

“We’ll be careful.” He loved his baby, but getting laid took precedence. If he had to clean off her upholstery for this, it’d be well worth it. The angel was already relaxing to lean against him, burning up from Dean's well-placed kisses.

"It isn't...But it isn't safe..." His hands were already making their way around the man's neck, waiting for the familiar touch against his groin. Instead, his companion moved his hand further down until he had handfuls of Castiel's ass. The angel arched against him, his gasp resulting from the groping hands as well as his surprise.

Dean licked a trail down to the crook of the teen’s neck before responding against the warm flesh there, “Don’t worry, Cas. I’ve got condoms.” The angel’s eyes flew open at that, mind reeling. He tore himself from his mate’s arms to press back into his own seat.

“You don’t…that’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what you want,” the older brunette said, “So c’mere.” But Castiel shook his head and buckled himself into his seat.

“It’s not what you want,” he answered with his gaze aimed out his window. Dean nearly lost it, then and there. Whatever the kid had managed to get stuck in that thick skull needed to be shaken out, or pounded out if his lover had anything to do with it. With only a groan as a reply, the hunter started the car and began to drive.

To say he missed the turn to Bobby’s place wouldn’t be as accurate as saying he ignored it completely. He half expected Castiel to start playing Twenty Questions with him about where they were going, but the better half expected the ensuing silence.

He may not have been the smartest guy, but even with his GED he could tell his mate was changing.

The angel had stopped being afraid, stopped being angry, and now it seemed like he had stopped being happy. The hunter was hoping it was a phase, a side effect, or maybe he had just upset the teen in some way. That was what the date had been for; to brighten up his mood at least a little. But Castiel had been frowning the whole time; he still was, even when they pulled into a parking lot.

“Dean, this is…” He didn’t bother finishing his sentence. Of course the driver knew where they’d parked, could read the lit-up Comfort Inn sign as well as his passenger could. The question was why, and Castiel was sure that would be answered soon.

“We’re going in here, getting a room and…” he almost said something involving “fuck” or “virginity” but something in the back of his mind stopped him. His normally dulled-out Jiminy Cricket was telling him that he needed to deal with this carefully because one wrong move could let this turn out bad. Not statutory rape bad, no he knew Castiel wanted this, but there would be tears. And as strong as a man he was, Dean couldn’t handle tears very well - especially during sex. That turned him off, actually. Once tears were rolling down, so was his sex drive.

So tears coming from those amethyst eyes was something he wouldn’t let happen.

“…and what?”

Dean pulled Castiel inwards for a soft kiss, like they’d done on the teenager’s porch nearly two and a half weeks ago, “And I’m gonna make love to you.” Unexpectedly, the younger brunette didn’t pull away at that. No, he brought a hesitant hand to the hunter’s cheek that slid on to bury itself in his cropped hair. His head tilted, mouth shifted, lips parted - it was a preemptive invitation if Dean had ever tasted one and it took a good amount of restraint not to guide this into the backseat, to forget the hotel, and just take him right there in the Impala. 

It may not have been classy, but it made sense to him. The only safe place, their only haven, was inside this car. He’d lost his own virginity in the backseat - John had let him borrow the car for a date - and since he was a boy, the leather seats and rattling air conditioning - he had been upset over those lost Legos for weeks - had been comforting and represented the small bit of what was right in the world.

Despite this, he had promised himself that Castiel would be a classy lay, with a hotel and room service and a semi-comfortable bed, the works.

“Let’s go,” he rumbled. The angel took to the command immediately, leaning away, licking his slightly parched lips. Again, it took a lot of Dean’s restraint not to ignore his promise. He wanted to suck on those lips until they were wet and plump. Better yet, until they were trembling and panting.

He needed to get them into that hotel room fast, before he started tenting his pants. And he was already halfway there. The older of the two stretched his arm out to the glove compartment, popped it open, and rummaged around the clutter for a condom. He checked the expiration date on the square casing. Last month. Well, he didn’t have any STDs since the last time he checked, not that he knew when that was, and Castiel wasn’t getting pregnant any time soon. Still, he grabbed a second one, shoved them both in the pocket of his slacks, and climbed out of the car. 

By the time he made sure his baby was locked, Castiel was already out of the car and. In seconds, he had a bag slung over his shoulder to make it look like they actually had plans to sleep rather than an unplanned fuckfest.

Never mind the bag was full of stakes, cans of salt, and a sawed-off shotgun. It was better than walking in empty handed, probably.

“Hello?” he called once they had made it into the building. The lobby was nice and it seemed to hit him that, after spending nearly two decades in motel rooms, this was his first time in a hotel. He tried not to get overwhelmed, and it was working, until he saw the flatscreen television playing the news to nobody in particular and past that the empty breakfast buffet. He knew, just knew, that there would be scrambled eggs and bacon as well as donuts and Lucky Charms waiting in the morning, all of it part of his complimentary Continental Breakfast.

It was like Christmas all over again.

“…sir?” he snapped from his whelmed thoughts to look at a girl with a faltering smile, “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, we uh…we’d like a room.”

She wasn’t even looking at him now, typing away at her computer, “Any preference?”

“King-sized bed,” he glanced down at Castiel, with wide blue eyes. Virgin eyes, he thought, but not for long. He swallowed, “Do you have any, uh…romantic kind of rooms?” Dean could honestly say he had never blushed a day in his post-pubescent life but in that moment, when her fingers froze and the desk clerk looked at him with a question on her lips, he might have turned several shades of pink.

“For…the two of you?” she asked, lips pursed now.

“Yeah.” Shifting his weight from foot to foot as inconspicuously as he could, Dean was sure they could’ve heard a pin drop. She looked to Castiel, expecting him to say something.

Shit, she didn’t believe he was of age. That’s what Dean needed on top of murderer, thief, and conman. A sex offender - worse, a pedophile.

And then he realized that his lover was underage, just shy of eighteen. No. No, Castiel was an angel. Technically he was thousands of years old, so that had to count, right?

By some miracle, Castiel caught on to her suspicion, and he slipped his arms around one of Dean’s, forcing on a smile.

“It’s our first time,” he said sheepishly, slowly, “He wanted it to be special.” His older companion put a hand over his, tossing him an honest smile that thanked him for being more or less perfect in that moment.

“Anniversary,” he explained in one fell swoop. She nodded as if she understood and a tentative smile replaced her tight-lipped frown. Crisis averted. The clerk resumed tapping on her computer.

“We have a romance package, but I’m afraid that requires booking a week in advance. The Suite Valentine room is available, however, if that’s acceptable. It has a king-sized bed, a jacuzzi in the room as well as-“

“We’ll take it,” Dean interrupted, “How much?” The transaction was quick, checked in by another alias and their credit card. He thought about asking for room service, but there was no point. Castiel wouldn’t drink, probably would have gotten offended if Dean drank, and they had just eaten. So he thanked her, took his room key, and led the younger brunette up to the top floor.

“Why did you lie to her?” he questioned as they rode the elevator up. 

“She would’ve called the cops if we didn’t sell it.”

“Sell what?”

“That we’re a normal, happy couple.”

“…we’re not, though.”

“No we’re not normal, Cas. I know that, you know that, but she didn’t,” he said this with every word caught on a sigh, “And I wanna keep it that way.”

There was a long pause, almost painfully deafening, “…but we’re happy?” Green hues flicked down from watching the floors go by to stare at him.

“Yeah, I think. I know it’s pretty crazy with us, but it’s not like anything’s been too bad.” He didn’t ask if it was true; he didn’t want to hear Castiel’s melancholy reply. The doors slid open and when Dean took a step forward, he felt a hand reach for his. Their fingers intertwined and he led the angel, his angel, wherever the signs led them. Finally, there was a door with “Suite Valentine” engraved on a metal plaque. Fancier than the hunter had expected, but he swiped the room key wordlessly and kept his thoughts to himself.

The door opened, and he was pulled out of Christmas and it must have been his birthday. A huge bed that could fit three people comfortably, four of the fullest pillows he’d ever seen, and oh there were chocolates on them. Then, he turned his gaze to the other side of the room. Beside the flat screen t.v., a couple feet away, was the jacuzzi. Rose petals decorated the water’s surface and Dean could see himself sinking into the warm water, a lithe form straddling his waist…

Oh, he knew he made the right decision. He walked further into the room, tossing his bag on the floor to start stripping. The hand holding had been dropped, probably in their collective surprise, but he still expected Castiel to follow him in. He did, of course, but just enough to shut the door behind him.

“Dean…?” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm.” The older brunette was listening, but his attention was focused on undoing the buttons of his shirt.

His lover looked at him with furrowed brows, “…Can I take a shower first?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he responded, “Just don’t take too long.” And then the teenager was slipping into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. Dean hadn’t expected the need to be clean, but he wasn’t going to say no. To pass the time, though, he found himself heating up the hot tub, turning on the jets, and slipping into the warmth. He was, of course, buck naked. The hot water felt great, almost too great, and the thought of Castiel naked in the other room coupled with what they were going to do stiffened Dean’s cock enough that he had to alleviate some of the pain with a few slow strokes.

He was acting like he was new to this, like some virgin. And he hated it. He was Dean, the womanizer, the woman-pleaser. That was it, though, wasn’t it? He’d had sex with women plenty of times, but men…

Castiel…

This was different, something else entirely. He could really hurt him. And who knew what would happen if they went “all they way” as opposed to using their hands and mouths? What if Castiel turned into an angel halfway through and he disappeared to Heaven or whatever.

It was at that point the man decided that sitting still in a jacuzzi let him think too much. As he was sitting up, however, the door to the bathroom opened in a cloud of steam. He still thought about getting out of the water, toweling off quickly, and…

The thought was washed from his mind completely when he saw his mate, still damp and half a shade pinker from the shower. He was nervous, his hands crushed into fists at his side to keep from hiding his groin - even flaccid, Dean wanted him. So he held out a hand for him.

“Since you’re already wet.” And then Castiel was lurching forward, a nervous little stride, until his feet splashed into the water. He took the older brunette’s hand for stability while he sat down, just next to him, close enough that their arms would press together. But that wasn’t close enough, not for Dean. He lifted the thin teen up and onto his lap so that he was being straddled just as he had imagined moments ago.

“This okay?” he found himself asking. It wasn’t just the position or the jacuzzi. He was making sure Castiel wanted this, giving him a last chance to back out.

“Yes,” the angel breathed, “If it’s what you want.” Dean let out a growl and his hips surged upward. The younger man gasped at the hardness there and ground back without thinking.

“Does it feel like I want it, Cas?” He was still again, watching as Castiel continued to move against him in a focused sort of tempo. His eyes had fluttered closed and his hands were gripping onto the hunter’s shoulders tight; he might have been holding something back, or he was trying his best. Either way, it made his partner ache all the more.

“Yes,” he hissed as his own cock began to fill out. Dean took that opportunity to reach down into the water and grip the base of his shaft.

“That’s it, Cas. It’s just like that,” Dean purred in the teenager’s ear. Then, he began to stroke him - his hand was slow, careful, but thoroughly went from base to flaccid tip then back down and back up until Castiel was bucking into his hand for more. Still by his ear, the older man laughed.

“Don’t…don’t laugh.”

“I wasn’t teasing you, Cas. Jesus-“

“E-even if I’m not…what you expect…please don’t…don’t laugh at me…if I’m not…good enough.” His voice was trembling enough that Dean lost his smile. Not tears, anything but tears.

“Hey,” he called softly, trying to comfort, “Hey, stop. Look at me. Cas, look.” Blue eyes obediently met his and it clicked, that fear of not being good enough, of being left because of it. The situation between them was different, but it didn’t matter. Dean knew what that felt like.

“It’s fine. Worst comes to worst, we’ll keep jerking each other off. That works, doesn’t it?” He earned a nod and continued, “So we’re stuffing the ‘not good enough’ talk, alright? You’ve gotta just shut up and let me take care of you. Got it?”

“Yessir.”

“No ‘sir.’ You’re not…Jesus, you’re not in trouble, Cas.”

“Yes…Dean.” The strokes continued once more, faster this time. Between the hot water and Dean’s tightening fist, Castiel didn’t know how long he could last. He really was too easy, even after all the things they’d done. But he had to “stuff” that talk, as Dean put it, so he ended the train of thought and focused on the pleasure. It was irresistible, honestly; he was panting for release within minutes. Kisses, hot and lingering, were pressed into the nape of his neck. This wasn’t how the hunter had planned this to go. Then again, he hadn’t planned this much at all.

“I, I can’t stop it…” he warned. One day, he would have to learn how to last longer. They hadn’t even made it to the bed yet and he was already at his limit.

“Then do it. We can go for round two afterwards.” He nipped at sensitive flesh, then smoothed the bite over with his tongue. The process repeated over and over, in a speed separate from his more or less pumping hand, from the teen’s neck to his collar, his shoulder, even to his earlobe.

That was where he lost it. Dean breathing hotly into his ear, murmuring words of encouragement - it drove him over the edge. He thrust into his mate’s hand, arching ever so slightly, moaning out his name as he came. 

The sight was almost too much for the older man, but he managed to keep his calm and his hands away from his now fairly painful erection. It could only take so much teasing, after all.

“You okay, Cas?” he said low, green eyes taking in the sight of his lover coming down from his high. Instead of a reply, the angel stood up - giving Dean a front row seat to his cock - and climbed out of the water. The hunter expected him to go and get a towel to dry himself off. No, Castiel prowled right over to the bed and spread himself on it, like he was his own complimentary buffet. 

And suddenly Dean was starving.

“Cas?” He got out of the jacuzzi before turning off the jets. As much as he wanted and liked this, it wasn’t like Castiel to be so confident. Especially not in the gloomy state he’d been in recently. The teenager rolled over onto his stomach, hips canting upward to showcase his ass.

“Round two?” Dean didn’t need any other prompting. Questioning the angel’s mental state melted away from his priorities, replaced for the hunt for some kind of lube. He may not have been a regular in this sort of thing, but he knew the basic ins and outs. He hoped. Finally, he grabbed a small bottle of lotion from the bathroom and stalked over to the bed. Castiel was grinding against the air - no, he was grinding into his hand. The kid was already hard again.

“Not even gonna wait for me?” the older brunette teased while he picked up a condom and set it close by. His mate stopped touching himself immediately, blue hues aimed back towards Dean.

“I need it,” he mouthed, “Please.” It almost scared the hunter how desperate he looked, how different he was from the lip trembling teen he’d just been necking. He said nothing of it, though, and just popped the top off the miniature bottle. He squeezed some of it out onto his hand - not scented, but he was alright with that.

“So I just, uh…put this on my-“

“You have to get me ready first. One finger at a time…” Then a younger hand was reaching back and pulling at one of his ass cheeks. Dean got the hint, even though he didn’t particularly like what it meant. He had come this far, he told himself, so there was no backing out. That helped, oddly enough, so he began to work the cream along his fingers until they were coated well enough. His gaze travelled from his own hand to Castiel’s rear, where he could see a slightly puckered asshole. It was weird and different and…kind of cute, in a weird sort of way. He would never say it out loud but yeah, it was cute.

“Dean,” the creature pleaded. A finger responded by reaching forward and circling him once, twice, and then Dean had plunged his digit past the ring of muscle into Castiel’s warmth. He had to bite his lip to keep from saying anything, to keep from moaning. It was tight and hot and it was sucking him in; and he only had a finger inside him.

“Like this?” he finally managed to ask. A groan sounded while hips ground back at him. He watched the movement, devoured it really, as a second finger started to enter the teenager. Castiel groaned again, but his body stopped moving. The older of the two decided to test the waters by thrusting his fingers. A gasp. He pulled them back and pressed his digits as far into the angel as he could. Another gasp, followed by a muffled moan.

“Should I-“

“One more,” he murmured, “Just one more…then I want you inside me, Dean.” As arousing as it was to hear that, Dean knew this wasn’t like his mate. Castiel was nervous, sweet - not this hungry minx. But he was thinking with his dick, and it assured him it was just a side-effect of the angel thing. So he continued. His fingers fucked the teen slow and steady, trying to get the sphincter to loosen up some. There was no way he could manage his way into such a tight spot, not without hurting the other man.

“Almost there, Cas.” He tried spreading his fingers; it didn’t seem to do much besides drawing a sharp breath from the younger brunette. So he continued with it, relishing in the little sounds his lover was making.

“Please,” he finally panted, “I need you, Dean.” The hunter tried to convince himself that Castiel was prepared, that he knew what he was doing but there was this dull, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he could be wrong to do this.

All it took was a whimper passing from those still slightly chapped lips, and then his hesitation was snuffed out. He pulled his fingers out carefully before squirting more lotion onto them. He worked the dollop of hand cream along his shaft, his breath coming out in heavy puffs; after all this time, he’d been ignoring his own erection in favor of taking care of Castiel. 

Dean guided his swollen head to the angel’s asshole, pressing hot flesh against hot flesh, only a tease for the both of them. He nearly told him that he was putting it in, but he stopped himself. Of course Castiel knew what he was doing; he’d feel it as soon as it happened. So he took a breath before sinking his cock into the smaller form.

He exhaled, groaning out, “Shit.” 

The hunter had been with plenty women, all beautiful and some extremely talented. But none had ever been this tight. He couldn’t tell if he was going to come right off from the muscles squeezing around him, pulling him in further, or from the nearly sufferable heat. His hands gripped those leaner hips tightly, resisting the urge to slam forward. Instead, he steadily pressed forward until his entire length was buried in Castiel’s ass.

“You okay?” he asked, his hands loosening their grip to paw and massage at the other’s hips.

“Yes…”

“Are you read for me to move?”

“No,” the immediate answer worried Dean but he continued, “Just…give me…”

“Take your time, Cas.” And then he was bending over, pressing kisses along the angel’s back. He wasn’t sure where he was pulling this patience out of, but he could feel it reaching its end. Soon, he would have to pound into his lover without a care in the world. 

For now, though, he could still play nice. The hunter pulled back, slowly, and began a gentle grinding. His mate hadn’t said he was ready, but from the hips attempting to meet his movements it was easy enough to figure out. Dean kept that up for a minute, then two, three, and then he was picking up speed. He tried to ignore Castiel’s fists bunching up the bed sheets, tried not to imagine the pain flashing across the teen’s face.

Taking it up the ass wasn’t appealing to the older man because he was sure it had to hurt like hell. Eventually, when he was moving at his standard pace - a fluid sort of movement, all the power behind his thrusts to reach as deep as he could manage - the guilt got to him. One hand released its soothing grip on Castiel to reach around and wrap fingers around his cock. 

Like a lead weight, the guilt dropped to the pit of his stomach. The teen was only half-filled; the pain must have come too quickly after his orgasm. Dean would try his best to fix that. He stroked the length from base to tip in drawn out pumps, accepting the muffled sounds coming from distant lips as ones of encouragement. Once his lover was full and aching, the older brunette simply thumbed the head of his erection, smiling.

“D-Dean…” 

Now he was picking up tempo, faster than his usual because Castiel was so hot, so welcoming - too much for the hunter to resist.

It kept up until he was finally pounding into Castiel's ass, panting and cursing with every other thrust. He wasn't sure how his lover was getting any pleasure from this, but he could feel pre-cum drooling from the tip of the angel's cock onto his hand. Dean must have been doing something right.

“How's it-“ He was interrupted by the other's loud moan, louder than any before. With a slight tilt of his head and furrowed brows, he asked, “What was that?”

“Again...Dean, please...” It wasn't an answer, not really, but he did as he was told and moved at that angle in an attempt to please the younger brunette. As he ground into him, the teen arched his back and made loud enough sounds of appreciation that his lover half-expected someone to file a complaint. As it were, nothing interrupted them. Dean simply kept moving, slam into that one spot that sent Castiel mewling for more.

He only paused when he felt Castiel’s ass tighten around him, felt the angel tremble beneath him. A low groan was torn from his throat; it was so tight, so hot...

All it took was a few more thrusts into his mate before he was cursing out his orgasm. Dean kept close as he came down from the high, trying to regain his ability to think coherently. What was he supposed to do? Was it safe to pull out?

“Yes,” Castiel said, “But not too fast, please.” The hunter nodded and did so, glad one of them knew what they were doing. He liked the little shiver the smaller form made when he broke apart from him completely. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, about to get up and shower.

And then it hit him.

He hadn’t asked that last question out loud. “Cas...can you...read minds or something?”

“Reading minds is common among angels, so of course I would gain that power.” Dean gave him a once over as the angel sat up on his heels.

“Why are you talking weird?”

“I’m not...Dean, perhaps you should rest. Your mind is not at its-”

“Cas, when did you start reading minds?” he demanded, back on track to his original question. Castiel made a note that his human’s brain was now back in-check.

“Nearly a minute and a half ago, when I orgasmed. You know my true self is awakened with every time I climax, don’t you? I thought we had this conversation...” Dean stood up now, green eyes trained on the creature before him - a creature that was less and less like his Castiel with every word.

“I am still Castiel, Dean,” he assured, “But I am not encumbered with human emotion. I do not feel sadness, happiness, or anger, or lust. This is a good thing, Dean.”

“Stop reading my mind!” the older man snapped. He was glaring, his anger ignited. Thankfully, his mate seemed to catch that and remained silent as he watched Dean shove his pants on; he completely forewent the underwear to put his shirt back on. When he was just barely decent to walk out to the car, the anger had already dulled. Whatever Castiel was doing or going on about, it was a side-effect of the angel thing. The kid he’d shared fries with two weeks or so ago was still in there, somewhere, bottled up maybe.

“Come on, let’s get back to Bobby’s place.”

“Isn't it customary to lie in bed together after the act of-”

“Let’s go, Cas,” he rumbled before quieting into something more soothing, “We can do it at Bobby’s place, okay?” And then Castiel was standing, right on the bed, and then he was standing on the floor. Dean hadn't seen any movement; there had been no climbing down, not even a twitch. He almost asked what the hell that'd been, but he stopped himself. He didn't want to know.

"Teleportation. I can only do it short distances now, but as a full angel, I am able to appear anywhere at any time. Even the past."

He really didn't want to know that. Before the angel could comment on that, his companion was heading towards the room's door. He followed, obediently, willing to follow him anywhere, after all.

"Cas…" Dean called. His voice was strange and when blue eyes looked up to his face, he saw that the hunter was looking him over. Not even a slight limp…

"Yes, Dean?"

"You need to wear clothes still, angel or not."

"…but you like it when I don't wear-"

"Dammit, Cas! Get out of my head!" There was the anger again, but Castiel couldn't understand why it was there.

"I didn't read your mind, Dean. I remember the way you looked at me, the first time you saw me naked. You were so hungry then…but hungry for what?" He was going to reach up and touch Dean's cheek, to rub his stubble affectionately. Instead, he turned away.

"You can't walk around naked. Put some clothes on." There was only a second of hesitation before Castiel "popped" over into the bathroom. He dressed himself and strode out of the bathroom calmly.

"Like this?" he asked, not wanting to upset Dean further.

"Yeah," the hunter grumbled before walking out of the room. He could still fix this, fix his angel.

*

He couldn't fix it. Castiel had assured him, well past the point of annoyance, that there was nothing to fix. Each time he came, he lost a human emotion. Now, there only appeared to be one left - though he wouldn't tell Dean which one - it was probably eagerness, the way he kept cornering Dean. It was admittedly cute, at first.

Dean would wake up with a half-awake angel in his arms who was pressing kisses to his chest and murmuring good morning to him. He would go downstairs to make a cup of coffee, but by the time he was out of the shower, Castiel had already made it, poured it into a cup, and he even kissed his cheek when he handed the hot mug to him.

But then he'd be talking with Bobby and Castiel would "pop" in to ask if Dean wanted a beer - he never asked Bobby if he wanted one, but then he'd bring in one for each of them anyway, so the old man couldn't complain.

They went on a hunt, to take care of a ghost in Wyoming. Castiel wouldn't let him do anything, saying he didn't have to worry about it, and the teen would more or less snap his fingers and the hunt was over, easier than pie. Which was easy, could Dean tell you.

Dean didn't like being cared for. It wasn't in his nature to accept, even to like it.

Finally, after two days of this, he couldn't' take it. Bobby had gone off to help his "idjit of a hunter" friend Rufus and he'd left the place in Dean's care. The younger hunter was flipping through books, looking up demons and whatever could pop into his head. Castiel stood at his side, reading over his shoulder - which was bad enough…

"Are you hungry?"

"No Cas, not since you asked me two minutes ago."

"Oh…are you thirsty?"

"No!" For the past hour, the angel had been asking him questions constantly, like an overbearing babysitter. Well he was sick of it. He'd been asked so much, he didn't even want more scotch.

"…do you want to have sex?" That made Dean pause, though not in anger. His green hues turned upward.

"Now?"

"Yes," he said, "We can ever do it here, if that's what you want." The casual way he said it though, like he was offering a glass of spirits or a sandwich…

"Why?"

"Because…you seem upset and sex can be a very stress-reducing activity." That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because he could feel Dean's anger come back, just like the last night they had sex, full-blown.

"Is that all it is to you, Cas? When you think I'm pissed off, that fucking you will make it better?"

"No, that's not-"

"Well it won't! Cas, something's wrong with you and if this is what you're gonna be like when you're a fucking angel, then I don't want anything to do with you because you're so goddamn annoying! I don't know what the fuck emotion is left but if it's making you act like this then we might as well get it over with so I can have some peace of mind! Jesus!" He hadn't meant to be so cross, but it came out that way and there was no way to take it back. Besides, Castiel probably needed that if he was going to be a real angel.

"…love."

Dean huffed out his air, his teeth nearly clenching, "What?"

"The last emotion," Castiel whispered with something sad in the undertone, "It's love." And then Dean's anger shattered into remorse, guilt…everything he was used to feeling, but never about Castiel. Like everything else, he'd messed it up. He'd pushed Sammy away, his dad, Cassie - anything he could push away, he did. And he understood now that Castiel was no different.

"Shit," he sighed. The teenager's blue eyes were emotionless, like Dean had wiped all the feeling away from them. That gave him a sickening sort of feeling. castiel was standing there, slowly losing his emotions, his humanity, to become some kind of angel. Even with that, he was ready to take the yelling, to take whatever Dean would throw at him because he...

Dean felt himself choking on the thought. He knew the kid liked him, sure, but loved him?  
Nobody loved him, not really. Nobody was that stupid.

"It's not stupid," the younger brunette murmured, his eyes downcast. His mate almost snapped at him again for reading his mind, no matter how many times he told him not to. But he had to get his priorities straight: get Castiel to calm down, not scold his ear off.

"Cas…I didn't…" There was a million things he was supposed to say, a million ways to fix this, but he couldn't get the words to form properly. So he stood there, awkward and guilty, waiting for Castiel to leave so he could get his mind straightened out without a prying lovestruck angel. The teen didn't look up at him; no, he turned around and began to walk away. If Dean needed space, then he would give it to him.

In an instant and the fluttering of a few papers, Castiel was gone, teleported to who knows where. His lover remembered him saying something about not being able to do it for great distances, so he couldn't be too far. More importantly, at least for the moment, he had his thoughts to himself.

He'd yelled at him. That wasn't the bad part, not really. The bad part was that he'd apparently yelled at the kid for loving him. It didn't make him any less suffocating, any less insufferable, but it gave him an excuse.

Dean should have gone after him; every instinct he had was telling him to. But he ignored that, ignored his better judgement, and went to go get a beer. Whether or not Castiel came back, it was going to be a long day...

*

The angel didn't come back, not for the rest of the day. Or for most of the day after that. Bobby ended up coming back faster than Castiel did, and when he realized the kid wasn't there, he had a mouthful to give Dean.

"You let an unfinished angel run out on you? Dammit boy, what if something' else gets him before we do?" he barked down at the younger hunter, who had for some reason decided to sit at his desk.

"…guess I didn't think that far ahead…"

“‘course you didn't," he huffed, "Idjit." So Dean was loaded up with silver bullets, salt bullets, that sawed off shotgun he'd carried into the hotel , and a wooden stake hooked into his belt loop. Then Bobby kicked him out of the house to go find his "goddamned boyfriend" and slammed the door. He was still looking around the junkyard for him when the sun sank below the horizon. Even in the dark though, he searched. A part of him was honestly worried. He knew the monsters that were out there, and was sure they might want to capture an angel - especially one that didn't have his full strength.

Sure, Castiel could hold his own against a demon, maybe even two or three. But what if there was more than a handful? He couldn't exorcise them all before they got a hold of him. And healing powers or not, Dean had a feeling they could really hurt him.

It was around three in the morning, the witching hour, that he started to panic a little.

"Cas!" he shouted, "Cas, come on out!"

There was no response at first, then a hesitant, "Are you still mad?" This was ridiculous, the hunter decided. he didn't care if his mate heard the thought, but this immature sulking was ridiculous.

"I'm not mad," he grumbled, "Now get out here and stop acting like you're ten years old!" He turned around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the angel coming out of his hiding spot. Instead, the kid was practically up against him, breath coming out in warm puffs on Dean's collar.

"I'm thousands of years old, Dean. I only act differently because of my remaining humanity," he explained curtly. Dean jumped a bit, probably never going to get used to Castiel popping up here and there without any sort of warning.

"Yeah well I liked your humanity, Cas. Especially if losing it makes you some wise, old creep." He mentally winced; that had been mean, and he didn't deserve it.

"Dean…"

"We've got Bobby and that's bad enough," he added in hopes it would soothe over the bitterness. The angel kept quiet, his face blank. Dean would have taken that as a bad sign, but with the state his lover was in, the expression had become the usual - which of course made it hard to tell how Castiel was feeling or if he was feeling anything at all. 

But he wasn't willing to play nice any more than that, not for the moment, so he let the silence stretch on until they got to the house. He was about to stomp up the stairs when he realized the younger - or older, really - brunette had stopped trailing along beside him.

"Cas?" The hunter looked back and saw he wasn't even paying attention to him. Those blue hues were trained on the Impala, over in the open garage.

"We should go to your father soon."

Dean's frown deepened, "What?"

"He's going to need your help soon."

"How the hell do you know that?"

Those eyes turned to him, locked him into place, "I have seen it." And then the angel noticed the distinct moment when all thoughts ceased and there was nothing but a flat line stretching across Dean's mind. He waited for a response, another demand of "what" but instead was met with stunned silence.

Despite all his powers, knowing the probable future was the one that shocked Dean out of thought. So he continued, hoping to explain, "One of my powers is to see the past and the future, as well as the present. I have slowly been learning the past, from the moment you kissed me, through dreams and sometimes while I'm awake. The future, however….the future is new to me and it…shifts, constantly. Few things are certain, because of free will. But your father needing you in a few days' time is more than likely."

Again, the human said nothing. Castiel would have gone inside, to bed, if a premonition hadn't passed his mind. There was no danger, no threat, no argument…

But his heart quickened at it.

So the teen turned and strode over to the car. It just barely shone under the weak light from the outdoor lamp, but he could appreciate its beauty. He had seen Dean do so enough that the feeling was nearly second nature. Even in the past, as a young boy, he had wanted this car. A gift from father to son, a sign that John trusted him and thought he was ready to go off on his own.

And in a way, it was.

"Then we'll leave tomorrow. Go down to Jericho," Dean finally announced as he followed him to the car, "…so you can see all of time or something?"

"Yes, and once my powers are completely restored, I can travel through all of time as well." Castiel took a few steps further into the garage, standing beside one of the Impala's back doors.

"…so you can go back and-"

"I can't change your mother's fate, Dean. No matter what I changed, your mother would always walk into that nursery. I'm sorry."

"You wanna wait until I actually ask it before you kill off my mom?" he gritted. The angel leaned against the car, not sure how this would lead to what he had seen.

"Dean, if I could save her, I would," he said, his voice low and something soothing. His mate took a breath before moving to stand a breath away from him.

"I know." That was his apology and coming from Dean, it was enough for the shorter creature. Hands found their way to the broader chest, not as a barrier but as a way of contact. His blue hues looked up, searching the other pair for some kind of acceptance. And then there were warm hands on his hips; they lifted his shirt slightly to rub at the skin there. He almost breathed out the man's name, but his mouth was captured by another.

The kiss was soft, gentle, and then once Castiel responded, something dominant took over the hunter's lips. He was pressing hard, almost enough to bruise, and his teeth kept biting at the angel's lower lip. When the younger brunette let out a sort of whimper, Dean licked along his lip in hopes to soothe away the pain. His lover was gripping to his shirt tightly, trying to bring him closer and press their bodies together. But the hunter tried to pull back, only his hands touching the other as he did.

"Let's go inside," he murmured, eyes beginning to undress Castiel right there.

"No."

"But we can't-"

"In the Impala," the angel suggested before he tried to pull the man close again. Dean would be lying if he said his cock didn't stir at the thought, but hearing it from his mate seemed like a dream. A weird, albeit very nice, dream. When he didn't move closer, Castiel continued, "I've seen it. In a few minutes, we'll be in the backseat…"

That was all it took. Lips crashed together again, more noisily this time as the human let out a growl. His hands moved to grope at the other's ass, but instead lifted him and started to pull him away from the car. Castiel took this initiative by reaching and getting a hold of the door handle, so when he was pulled away, it was pulled open. Dean only spared enough thought to thank god for unlocked cars before ducking down into the Impala, angel still latched onto him. He was kicking off his shoes and trying to shove off his jacket when his lover whispered for him to stop.

"Stop?" he groaned, "Now?"

"Get out. Stand right outside the car." Dean was unaccustomed to being ordered around by the teen - or the old man, or whatever one could call someone his age - but h grudgingly did as he was told. Castiel likely wanted to get undressed by himself; it seemed like something this "new" version would do.

So he was even more surprised when hands began to fumble with his belt buckle.

"Uh, Cas?"

"Yes?"

Dean almost asked what he was doing, but that was more than obvious. The angel finally got his belt undone and then he was unbuttoning his fly, lowering the zipper, and…

"Jesus," the human breathed. He was gripping the top of the car, eyelids sliding closed. He hadn't even bothered with his underwear; Castiel had just clamped his mouth down over it, sucking him hard as he could through the fabric. Somehow he felt hotter than before, like there was an actual fire inside him.

"No," the younger mouth answered after he pulled away, "I'm still Castiel." Even with next to no emotions, the guy still had a sense of humor. Dean could appreciate that.

Or he would have, if deft hands didn't tear down his underwear and begin to stroke him ruthlessly with those warm, tight-gripped fingers. His grip on the car was so tight, Dean was surprised it wasn't denting, "Shit, Cas…Is this what you saw?"

"…no."

"Then what-"

"Don't you like this?" With that voice asking him, almost innocent enough to believe it, it was impossible to say no - not that he'd try lying. But he had to admit, the idea of fucking Castiel in the back of his car had him going. Being inside him was better than any blowjob or handjob at least, that was for sure.

"If that's what you want," he answered, though nothing was said aloud. Reading Dean's mind was second nature, easy as listening to him speak. The angel would have to practice that, distinguishing between the two. He pulled away from Dean and the man opened his eyes to a see a shirt tossed at him, then a minute or so later, pants and underwear followed. His feet stepped back, enough that the clothes dropped to the floor and he had enough room to pull off his shirt and yank on his jeans. But one look at Castiel, naked and hard, in that backseat…

"Forget it," he grumbled before slipping into the car, pants loose enough on his hips that his lover's work from before remained undone. Without a word, his mate spread his legs for him and accepted the teasing friction of Dean sliding up his body to meet his pursed lips. They were just barely chapped, as always, and they reminded him of pastries and that blueberry pie he'd had back in the kid's hometown. 

He was grinding against him, trying to wring a moan from the teen's lips. Even when he got one, two, the brunette kept going. Castiel's panting mouth and the pale blush of pleasure on his face below was too much to deny; if this was how he got Castiel off, then so be it. The idea didn't seem to be such a bad one, after all.

"No. No, that wasn't….what I saw."

"Cas, I don't care-"

"I was on top of you." It was a muttered response as the angel's gaze shifted away from his human to the roof of the Impala. The image in Dean's head made him ache more than he cared to admit and he pulled away from him.

"You wanna ride me?" he asked, licking his lips.

"…yes." In all honesty, Castiel wasn't sure. But the carnal hunger coming from Dean, and feeling his mind salivate at the possibility, left the angel with no other choice. So he willed himself out of that spot, out of the car even. There was no point in trying to maneuver around the hunter if he had this power. The man seemed to catch his drift, because he turned himself around so he was on his back. His head and torso were propped up by the car door - his baby was only so wide - but it was good enough for Castiel to "pop" back in and straddle his hips.

"Better?" he teased.

"Yes." Maybe that sense of humor was a one way street; he could make jokes, but still couldn’t understand them. Dean didn't linger on it too much, especially not when the angel began to suck on two of his fingers. Then again, suck wasn't quite accurate. It was more like watching his mate lick and lap at his digits until they were coated with his saliva - almost like a popsicle.

"Aren't you gonna need more than just…uh…" He trailed off, all his attention going to the small groan Castiel made when a finger must have entered him. It was a shame the human couldn't see. He'd bet it was a hot sight, seeing those fingers being sucked into his angel's kind-of-cute asshole. Hearing that from him, seeing that mental image, the teenager smiled and rolled his hips back against his hand. Two thin fingers were just starting to thrust inside him, and he was already tired of waiting. Whatever pain there was, he could use his powers and heal away the cause.

Dean watched him pull his fingers away, watched as the angel reached down and took hold of the head of his erection. He licked his lips again, body twitching to thrust up at him. Instead, he willed himself to lie still so Castiel could lower himself.

It was completely different from the first time. He'd been consumed by some sort of lust, excitement. Now that emotion was gone. Not to mention that Dean had taken more time, had lubrication for preparing him, rather than a minute or so of two spit-slicked fingers thrusting into his ass.

The pain was worse, even with his healing powers soothing over the strain and burn. Every inch he took into himself was another wave of ache that seemed to…

Oh. He pulled up, biting back the pain, and dropped down again, just that small bit and - oh, there it was again. The hunter was almost buried inside him, and his cock was brushing up against Castiel's prostate. The angel bit the inside of his cheek to keep from sounding his mixed sensations and instead chose to focus on aiming for that sweet spot. His hips rose and fell, body tilted in the slightest, in hopes of catching the spot more fully.

"Take it slow, Cas," Dean warned, wary of the fleeting grimaces his mate kept wearing. His hands found their way to the angel's sides, rubbing him in what he hoped to be a soothing way. Castiel closed his eyes, and his grinding slowed to something more bearable.

"But you-"

"I'll be here all night. Don't hurt yourself to try and make me happy. Geez. You think I'd want to look at your pained face?" And then he snuck a hand down to stroke the younger erection. When he gasped and moaned in response, Dean couldn't help but smile, "That's the face I like to see." He murmured words of encouragement while he pumped at the teenager's cock, steadily helping him acclimate to being filled. Once Castiel thought he could take it, he began to move faster, once again aiming for his prostate. It took only a moment or so before his eyes went wide, his back arched, and pleasure echoed through him.

"Found it," Dean grinned as his hips thrust upward. His lover moaned, long and desperate, before his own hips began to grind along his shaft, spearing himself over and over again. The angel kept going until he was moving as fast as humanly possible, and by then his hands had braced themselves on Dean's chest to steady himself with the human's own hands had found their way to his hips to keep up the pace.

"Ah," he panted, "Dean…" He could feel his orgasm coming, feel something foreign and white hot begin to build up inside him.

"That's it, Cas. Let it go."

A flash of the future, hardly thirty seconds away.

"N-No…Cover your eyes…"

"What?"

"Your eyes…close your…eyes…Dean!" He was too close; there wasn't enough time to explain. Castiel grabbed his lover's hands and tore them from his hips. Blue hues began to glow, like the sunshine when they'd first kissed, but then they grew brighter and brighter, until Dean was squinting to see the teen riding his hips. And then his hands were placed over his eyes, the angel's hands keeping them there as the light intensified, now coming from his mouth as well as his eyes. He kept moving though, painfully close to his orgasm. A few more seconds of bouncing along Dean's cock and he was spent.

Castiel cried out, overwhelmed by his climax and the burning fire that felt like it had consumed him completely.

And it felt like Heaven.

*

Dean felt his mate contract around him, riding his release out, maybe in hopes of bringing the hunter over the edge with him. To no one's surprise, it did and the man gave a low groan as he spilled his seed into the angel. It felt like more than usual, like a rushing sensation followed his orgasm. Once he came down from his unusual high, he stretched out.

And that's when a red flag went up. He had enough room to stretch out from head to toe…and the last time he checked, the Impala didn't have a mattress in the backseat. Dean's eyes shot open to see a ceiling, probably six or seven feet away. This was freaking him out. Had he passed out in the car? He really hoped that wasn't the case because passing out like that would shame him, even if Castiel vowed to never speak of it.

Then, Castiel crossed his mind. Where was the kid? "Cas?"

"Mm," sounded a voice from beneath the bed covers. It took a minute for the accompanying body to worm its way into the light, and when it did, the hunter was met with two groggy pools of azure, "Hello, Dean." And before he could say anything in response, a quick kiss was pressed to his lips, chapped and tasting like blueberry pie. Must be some sort of dream…

"It's not a dream. It's…well, it's a long story. But we're okay. The trip seemed to knock you out, that was my fault, so you've been sleeping all night." The older brunette seemed to take this in, until he realized there was nothing to take in except the fact that they - supposedly - weren't in danger or asleep, and he had in fact passed out.

Then Dean posed a curious question to himself and sought the answer out by lifting up the covers and peering down at his mostly naked legs, save for his boxers. He turned his green eyes at Castiel.

"…I was wearing pants."

"They're right over there, Dean," he pointed to a pair of jeans that had been tossed to the floor, "You kicked them off while you were sleeping. Well, those and your socks. I helped a little since you seemed to be having trouble."

"But I'm still-"

"You still have your boxers on." Castiel moved in closer, his lips pressing lazy kisses to the man's jaw.

"And you're naked," the hunter observed while his hand slipped down and groped his lover's ass shamelessly. And with an equal lack of shame, the angel moaned and pressed his groin closer to Dean's hip.

"As the day I was born…Ironic, isn't it? I end my humanity the same way I started it."

"Getting fucked in my car?" he teased.

Castiel nipped at his skin, smiling. "No. I meant naked. Unless you're saying you go around having sex with newborns-"

"No, gross…but hey, I'm glad you're back to normal." He pressed a kiss to the younger man's forehead. He had to be chalk full of emotions now, making cracks like that, and was just as human as the day Dean met him. But a sad expression crossed his face; human or not, his lover didn't want to see that on him, not in this weirdly-timed slice of heaven.

"I'm not," the teen mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Was it some sort of trick? Was this a monster he'd have to kill?

"I'm not normal. What you saw…what you met…this is if I had humanity. But I was created as an angel. I'm not supposed to have emotions."

Dean's frown was heavy-set, "Then…what the hell is all this?" There had only been one emotion left, and they'd gotten rid of it. So Castiel was supposed to be a full-blown angel at this point.

"Heaven," he answered, with a sheepish look about him.

"Heaven."

"Yes, well…when I, uh, finished…all the sensations felt so…all I could think of was that I was in heaven, and since my strength was fully returned, I thought it and…here we are." It was a slapdash explanation if Dean had ever heard one, but he finally looked around to see where "here" was. 

He didn't recognize it - not from his memories - and it seemed too nice for him to be able to afford it. But there were pictures: one on the nightstand, one on the dresser, and one up on the wall. They were of Dean and Cas, sitting on the hood of the Impala, the morning they watched the sun come up.

John, Dean, and Bobby sharing a beer at Bobby's kitchen table.

But the picture on the wall, it was the one that lodged a lump in Dean's throat. It was his family - John, Mary, Bobby, Sam, him, even Cas…They were all there, like they'd always been some big happy family, standing in front of their old house back in Kansas.

"What is this?" he asked again, his voice quieter as he fought the tears stinging at his eyes. Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder, warm and calming.

"I told you," he said softly, "This is Heaven. Yours…and mine. When people are tightly bound together by fate, they can share Heaven with one another, because it wouldn't be the same without it. Somewhere around here is Sam's, John's, Bobby's…and your mother's. Your family is so close, so dependent on each other's happiness…it would be impossible to separate you all and still call it Heaven."

"So…what's yours then?"

Castiel looked around, "As an angel, I'm not supposed to have one. But there was still a human part of me, just enough to give me this. As a human…I guess my Heaven is to be fully human and to be with you. I was young, I didn't have many aspirations or dreams. But then you came along and-" Dean kissed him, slow and almost sweetly.

"Mine's to live a normal life with no demons or monsters," he admitted with a cheeky smile, "But you knew that."

"I didn't know it included me. Even after what we had to go through, it was never expected of you to develop feelings like this for me. It was never in the plan to…" And then his smile widened, just a bit.

"Plan to what?"

"The Father works in mysterious ways, Dean. It's not my place to question Him." And then he laid his head on the man’s shoulder, blue eyes closing. Maybe this had been the plan all along, he thought.

"…so what're we gonna do next?"

"What?"

"I figure we hang out here for a while, 'till it gets boring, then we can head back down to Earth. You do know how to get us back down to Earth, right?"

"Of course, but...Dean, we could stay here…forever,” he cooed, lying happily beside his beloved. The older man’s smile faltered, but he only responded by pulling Castiel closer. Blue eyes looked up to him in concern.

“Right?”

“Cas, this place is…”

“It’s perfect,” he supplied, smiling sweetly as he pressed his cheek to the warm chest. He listened to the hunter’s steady heartbeat, finding it hypnotic in its rhythm.

“Exactly. But I’m not perfect, nowhere near it. And my dad needs me. You said it yourself, Cas.”

“But up here…it’s just us. Just you and me, with no one to bother us or hurt us or anything. We can be happy here, Dean.” He knew it sounded a little crazy, but he was at peace here, emotions swirling around his soul, the man he would know and love for a thousand lifetimes beside him. Castiel couldn’t give that up.

“Don’t you think it isn’t fair that no one else gets to see Heaven?”

“Hm?”

“The reason you wanted to become an angel, remember?

“…that’s not it. Everybody who has a good soul comes to this dimension and finds their own Heaven. It’s complicated, but no one has been denied Heaven because the angels haven’t been here. It has been the most peaceful world since we were pulled down to earth, actually.”

“How the hell do you know all that?” Dean sighed, wishing his lover wasn’t such a know-it-all smartass. Then again, he hadn’t been since he’d gotten closer to becoming an angel. A small part of him had missed it.

“He told me, Dean. Those last few nights…it wasn’t just the past I saw. I could hear His voice in my dreams,” he admitted, “I’ve learned so much. My brothers have had their Grace torn from them as punishment. But rather than it being sent to Earth, it remains here, where only those who did not betray the Father can come. But Balthazar is slowly killing his Grace and Father told me that Anna will have her Grace ripped out before she can find those of my brothers. I was all they had, but for their sins they should not get this.”

“Cas…it’s not your job to decide that.”

“But I’m an angel of the-”

“Cas, we need to go back. You have to take care of your family. I know that more than anyone. And we have to help my dad. You promised me, remember?” He did remember. But he also knew that John’s fate was set in stone, whether they helped him or not.

“But if I go back…I’ll lose all my emotion, my humanity…I won’t love you anymore,” he murmured, refusing to look up at the man for fear that the threatening tears would release themselves. Dean forced him to look anyway, but he managed to fight the tears back.

“You have to,” he urged, “It’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“You can’t do this…it isn’t fair…”

“When has life been fair, Cas?” The younger male suddenly pressed their lips together, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck.

“Don’t leave me,” he spoke against his lips.

“Never.”

“…even if I don’t remember this?”

“You will.” He pulled away to sprinkle a few kisses across his face.

“God, I hope not,” he choked, burying his face in his lover’s shoulder. Dean kept him close, keeping his breath steady. It had only taken a few weeks, not even a full month, for him to fall for this kid. This beautiful, wonderful angel…

And now, like everything else in his life, he would have to let go.

“Will you always love me?”

The words caught him by surprise, and it took him a moment to reply. He wished he could say no. He wished he could just drink a few beers after all this was done and forget about all of it. But the gravity of their situation, the fact that they were in Heaven together, would never leave him. He would always remember this kid’s smile, the way he melted against Dean when they kissed, the fire he ignited that Dean was sure could never exist…

“Always,” he agreed, stroking the teenager’s hair.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he added with a smile. Castiel pulled away to look at him, possibly for the last time. He took in the bright eyes, the shadow of facial hair, the quirky smile across his kissable lips, and the fact that it was all his. A hand sought to touch that face once more, so it did. Dean leaned into the hand, understanding his lover’s need to capture all he could before it was too late.

“I love you,” Castiel spoke, moving to press their foreheads together.

“You too…I love you,” he muttered, watching as the younger man closed his eyes. As he gave him one last kiss, the angel squeezed out his tears. Just before he willed them down to Earth, he managed to give everyone – all who had come into contact with them for the past three weeks –a forgiving gift, one that would save Dean and himself from the pain of their future…

**The Reprise**

“Who are you?” the younger of the humans asked while hiding the silver knife behind his back. The seals hadn’t stopped the stranger, and neither had the shotguns with salt. It was obviously something he and Sam had never dealt with before; even Bobby looked worried. The man in the overcoat looked at Dean, something familiar behind his deep blue eyes.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition,” he replied with a prideful, yet humble, smile. It had surprised the angel that he had been the one to reach Dean first. But the joy of accomplishing his Father’s wishes brought him an insurmountable joy, more than he had ever felt before.

“Yeah...thanks for that,” he replied in sarcasm; he didn’t like the vibe he was getting from this stranger, like he had already met him before…Yet, the man didn’t seem to catch his sarcasm as his smile widened into something friendlier.

That was it – he wasn’t sure if the smile freaked him out or if it was the thing calming his panicking heart, but either way there was no chance that it was a good thing. Dean drove the knife into the man’s heart, expecting him to recoil in pain or for the demon to come out the escape hatch. Rather than doing anything he had expected, the stranger’s smile faltered into something similar to surprise or even hurt. The hunter took a step back, waiting for something, anything to happen.

The angel looked down at the knife, a thin layer of something sad across his face, and then pulled its blade from his body and dropped the weapon to the ground. The one called Robert Singer moved to swing at him with what he believed was called a “crowbar.” He grabbed it before it hit him and, with almost a sort of regret, turned his attention away from the brunette. Their eyes met for a few seconds before the stranger pressed two of his fingers to the old man’s forehead and sent him to sleep.

Finally, there were no more distractions. He had come here for a purpose, after all.

“We need to talk, Dean...alone.” Something in the way he said his name struck a chord with the human, but he refused to reply. Instead, he went over to Bobby’s side to make sure he was alright.

“Your friend’s alive,” the angel assured.

“Who are you?” he demanded, already disliking this man.

“Castiel.”

“Yeah, I figured that much. I mean what are you?” Castiel stopped looking through the book he had found among their preparations for killing him on the table. They were all useless against an angel, but he had to admit they certainly had spirit.

“I’m an angel of the Lord,” he replied casually. Yet, something deep within him suddenly ached at that and he froze, a pained expression washing over his features.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Dean grumbled, now thoroughly confused. His hand twitched for its silver knife, but he had to remind himself it was useless. Maybe he should try and play nice with this creep.

“I’m…not quite sure,” he answered, still feeling that distant ache in his chest – an ache that felt so familiar and so foreign at the same time, it almost sent his poor mind reeling. His blue eyes looked to the man, a frown deeper than his usual on his lips. Before he could stop himself, Castiel spoke quietly, fondly, in a way he didn’t know he could:

“I am sorry, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone didn't noticed, the three weeks this takes place in October are the three weeks that Dean was supposedly doing "some voodoo gig" down in New Orleans.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, as this was my first post on this site~  
> (I have a tumblr under the same name and my fanfiction.net is MasterYodaofYaoi.)


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